Page 7 of Slick Handling

Good Golly Miss Molly.

They could bottle him up and sell him as Omega aphrodisiac.

“You’re an Omega.” His voice is grumbly, a sort of whisper sound like he only wants me to hear him speak. Or maybe I’m romanticizing the situation because biscuits and gravy this Alpha is the bees knees.

“Yup and you’re an Alpha.” I keep the smile planted on my face because smiling is way better than asking someone if you can rub your nose against their scent gland.

I think that’s frowned upon in polite company and definitely frowned upon if you’re not with that person. I don’t really know. I haven’t gotten to the Omega and Alpha interaction part of my education.I hadn’t been around many Alphas at all.

I wasn’t sure what to do around him.

Grammy always just told me that Stuart, a Beta that smelled like the tap water comes out of old pipes, was a good boy and he would date me when I was of age. That was before I ended up being an Omega though so I’m not really sure what she meant by that.

I really hope the Beta in Apollo’s pack doesn’t smell like old metal pipes. I don’t think I can smile like I am now if I’m trying to not puke.

“Can we get my bag? Your Mama lent me a piece of luggage. And she helped me get on the plane. This was my first plane ride. They even moved me up to first class and gave me two glasses of champagne!” I rocked on my heels as I held up two fingers, watching the way his perfect lips form a scowl.

Oh.

Don’t love that.

“They gave you champagne? How old are you?”

“Are you mad at me?” I blurt out, my smile falling as I look up at Apollo, “I’m sorry I was just nervous from flying and it’s been a real downright yikes on bikes the past two days.” He blinks at me like he is unsure of what to make of me and then I realize that I didn’t answer his question, “I’m 19.”

“Oh. Oh I’m going to hell. You’re a child.”

“I’m 19! I can vote.”

“Barely.”

“Still counts.”

“Oh my fuck she sent me a child.” He is covering his face with his hands as he refers to his mother and I really think I’m going to cry again.

He’s 24 years old. Something I know because his mother went over a lot of details about his pack before putting me on a plane here. She wanted to make me feel safe after going through something that made me feel very unsafe.

Knowing about the situation made me feel a little better. Until now.

My heart sinks and I watch him peel his hands away, looking down at me as if he can scent my distress.

It can’t be that bad.

“Lets get your luggage squared away and then get you back to the house.” He goes to reach for me and I feel myself flinch back without thinking about it.

He winces again, mutters an apology before turning to head towards the bag carousel. The problem with him heading off is that as the jolly giant, each step he takes is about three of mine and I find myself jogging to catch up to him.

Apollo seems distracted as he looks around, finally figuring out where my bag is and pulling it off the metal belt before it can make another trip around.

“I got this set for her for mothers day.” He explains how he knew it was my bag and I’m ever more embarrassed now that I had to borrow a bag for my things.

I’m pretty thankful that he didn’t ask why I had to borrow the bag or why I am here. I’m not quite sure I’m ready to talk about it. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to talk about it.

He holds my luggage as he walks us back to his SUV. He opens the passenger door for me, making sure I’m in the car before bothering to put my luggage in the backseat. Seeing that it is absolutely freezing outside I’m pretty thankful for the chivalry.

Once he’s in the car he moves some of the vents so they’re pointed at me and turns on the heated seats.

If I were to describe what heaven would feel like I would be sure that it's this right here. Being surrounded by that rich calming scent of Apollo and being warmed all over.

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