Page 21 of Small Town Shy Omega
“That’s what I’m saying.” Gretel let out a huff. “The pack then lectured me that I wasn’t Omega enough to be dating. They said that unless I was willing to stay in the kitchen, put on an apron, and serve them, they’d never want me.”
“I hope you told them thatyoudidn't want them!”
“That’s precisely what I wound up saying. They paid for my meal, scoffed at me, and then said that if I ever wanted a serious pack, the first step I needed to take was changing my blue hair.”
“I can’t honestly believe they said that. What a bunch of fucks.”
“The meal was good, though. I had chicken á la vodka, and the wine was superb. The garlic bread was great, and I actually brought home three slices that the pack didn't eat. Fuckers said they were carb counting. They looked at me like I was crazy to take the garlic bread.”
“Girl.”
“I thought they were crazy to not eat the garlic bread. Okay, I have curves, and? Life isn’t good if you never enjoy yourself. Garlic bread gives me great joy. My joy is a part of my mental health. Therefore, garlic bread is healthy.”
“I love the way you think,” I cackled and we sipped our wine.
I twirled the blueberry wine around my glass. “How do you even make this, girl?”
“I gather my wild blueberries at dawn. This batch was gathered during an April shower. Rain poured down over my shoulders, but I didn't let it stop me. I just used my little comb to gently tug the berries from their bushes, amongst the blue wildflowers. A bear actually came by and tried to compete with me for the blueberries, but I growled and fended him off.”
“You fought off a bear?!”
“I’d rather fight a bear than date that pack I met at Marion’s last night, girl.”
“Always pick the bear,” I laughed, and we both nodded in agreement.
Gretel sighed, leaning back. “I’m undateable. Every pack I match with rejects me for some reason. I’ve tried to change. I’ve tried to be more submissive, more Omega-like. But I’m a businesswoman, Layla, and submitting to a pack and staying in the kitchen isn’t my jam.”
“Just hang in there, Gret. I’m confident your dream pack is out there. They may not even be on an app.”
“Every match I get, I wind up screwing up. Either I’m not Omega enough, or I’m ‘too emotional,’ or just too plain silly. I’m undateable girl, and I’ll probably remain single for life.”
“I’m sorry your date didn't work out, babe. Do you wanna try to swipe for another pack?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
Gretel opened her phone, and we swiped through packs.
“Oooooh,” I said, pointing to one pack. “They look cute.”
“Look at the giant Alpha Pride flag behind them,” Gretel shuddered, shaking her head. “Not my vibe.”
“I missed that. Good eye.”
More packs popped up on screen.
Bing.
Gretel swiped left on three in a row, and at last, she stumbled across one interesting pack.
“Hmmmmm.” Gretel’s eyebrows waggled.
I lifted the phone. “OMG. They swiped right on you too!”
“Do you know who they are?”
“They’re firefighters, girl. This is a very in-demand pack!”
“Oh shit,” Gretel gasped, zooming in on their muscles and chiseled jaws. “Fuck, they’re hot.”
