Page 16 of Talk About… Rivalry

My phone dinged and I pulled it out, blinking away my tears to read the message from Taylor. I responded with a quick joketo try and make myself feel better before tossing it across the room.

This was all I ever wanted. To be truly seen by one of the men I’d pined over. Yet now I just felt worse. They wanted me and I could never fucking have them.

They may say they choose me now, but I knew when they found their scent match it would be over in a heartbeat. I always heard omegas and packs gushing about scent matching. How it was this all-consuming urge to have the other person, to commit their scent to memory, to ride out heats together, and no one else mattered as much.

Fate and biology mixed in perfect harmony.

Except within me.

I was and always would be damaged goods.

Pushing myself to my feet, I stumbled to my couch before collapsing again, snatching a pillow and screaming into it with everything I had. The tortured yell helped unwind some of the tension in my chest but it wasn’t quite enough to mend the gaping wounds this week had left behind.

It was only half past one, a good six hours before I could get a drink. Maybe I’d been to Whitaker Brews a bit too often in recent years, but I swear some days it was the only thing keeping me together.

What I needed was a distraction and a shower. I could easily text Avery but I knew damn well she’d see right through me and my best friend had enough on her plate being pregnant with triplets.

The walk to the shower nearly drained what little energy I had left, but I couldn’t just sit here and wallow. I’d done enough of that over the years.

As my old therapist always urged, allow myself to feel it then find a way to cope. Fuck, I really needed to get in contact with her again.

I dropped one of the shower bombs I’d bought from Cohen’s shop into the shower and kicked up the heat. It needed to be almost skin melting to bring me out of this one-woman pity party.

The scent of fresh forest air and morning rain hit me. I always preferred the earthy scents over sweet. Soon the bathroom smelled like I was taking a shower in the middle of the forest. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped inside, letting the hot water soothe me.

With my eyes closed, all I could see was Taylor’s eager face. He was full of hope and excitement as he asked me on that date and I had to try and let him down easy.

Only when the water started to cool did I rush through washing up. My phone was ringing in the other room and this time I didn’t shy away from it, wrapping a towel around myself and hurrying to catch it before the ringing stopped.

Grace’s face was on the screen since she only ever video called. I answered and flashed her a view of my towel.

“You always call me when I’m half-naked. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose,” I joked.

Grace’s face flamed red but she rolled her eyes.

“It’s a better idea than spending another night alone in my apartment. Tell me you’re up for a sleepover? I’ll even make you food and mixed drinks.”

“Girl, sign me up, I could use a drink or two and this way the Whitakers won’t judge me for drinking at the bar again,” I half-joked. Drowning my bad days in alcohol couldn’t become a habit.

She laughed but started going on about her day at work and her awful messages on PackVlog’s dating app. Not everyone got lucky like Mama Whitaker did. She found Charlie in a few days. Poor Grace has been fighting off creeps for months. They tookone look at her sweet face and love for all things pink and cute and figured she was an easy target.

Grace was cute but she was more stubborn than me. She didn’t get mad often but she would be a force to be reckoned with if she did unleash the full brunt of her attitude.

“Alright, see you as soon as you get here, I’m going to go set up,” she said, hanging up with a bright smile. Apparently, she needed company and I needed a distraction.

Grace and I had been friends for years and we were almost as close as Avery and I, especially after Avery left. I had a feeling Grace worried—with Avery being back in town—I’d drop our friendship, but I wasn’t that type of friend. We all hung out together now and individually. Plus, they were very different people, it wasn’t like either was replaceable.

It took every bit of energy I had left to throw on comfy clothes and drive across town.

Grace had a cute, little house just off of Main Street. It was painted dark blue with white accents, reminding me more of a coastal vibe than mountain, making it stand out. Then again, so did Grace. It fit her.

She had the door open before I even climbed out of my car, ushering me inside with a wide, cheerful smile. Everything about Grace exuded happiness. Maybe that was why we worked so well as friends. She could brighten a mood without effort and I craved that happiness more than I cared to admit.

“My mom tried to come over but I turned her down. Girl’s night sounds way more fun,” she said, giving me a conspiratorial wink. “Plus, all she’d want to do was talk about work and no thank you. I don’t need to know all of the latest nursing home gossip.”

“Sounds riveting,” I snorted.

She huffed out a laugh. “Girl, the stories she’s told would shock you. Those geriatric baddies know how to get down.”

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