Page 9 of Patiently Yours
I’m able to finally relax amongst my pack mates. I can feel the sadness ebbing away slowly. I’m a bit dramatic when I’ve been drinking.
Okay, maybe I’m just a little dramatic in general.
But my relaxed state is short lived as Derek fucking Kirkpatrick appears with an annoying fucking smile.
“Hiya boys.” He smiles in this manic way that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Not to mention, he smells rancidly of booze and sex. By the way Uriah’s nose scrunches, I can tell he’s picking up on Derek’s usual water-like scent.
Slimy, the drunk in me whispers.
“Derek,” Atlas greets him, always one to keep the peace. I can tell he’d prefer to not deal with his shit. It’s more trouble than it’s worth. He’s our frat brother and their teammate. It’s much smoother to just let Derek be the asshole he is.
It was very subtle at first. The first few years in the fraternity together, Derek’s passive aggressive comments were tame. Then, over the past few months, he has become an absolute prick. I personally think this is who he’s always been and he’s finally let himself loose. The things he says toward anyone who isn’t a hockey-playing alpha is absolutely insane.
I steer clear of him as much as I can.
“Atlas, Uriah,” he greets them back, and then his eyes find mine in a glare. The laugh that escapes me is a total accident.
“No greeting for me, Kirkpatrick?” I taunt him, the alcohol in my system keeping my tone playful. My light mood only seems to piss him off more.
“I don’t think you really deserve one, beta,” he hisses aggressively. Uriah growls at my side but I put a hand on my pack mate’s knee to assure him that I’m okay.
I don’t care about Derek’s prejudice. He can have whatever warped opinions that he wants. It has nothing to do with me.
“Humor me.” I look him in the eyes and interlace my fingers. “What did I do, Derek?”
His jaw tenses and I’m worried he’s going to break his teeth. Just when I think he’s going to turn and walk away, he opens his mouth.
“You were hitting on my omega, you piece ofshit.”
In unison, the three of us stand up.
I can feel Uriah preparing for a fight. His fists are clenched tight by his sides as he angles himself between us.
A curious look appears on Atlas’ face. He’s always assessing any situation we get ourselves into. He tries to discreetly assert some of his dominance into the air, making himself look nonchalant on the outside while anticipating this interaction to turn at any moment.
And my body is on alert because if he’s talking about who I think he’s talking about, we’re going to have a fucking problem.
“I thought you and your girl split up,” Atlas says before I can rip Derek a new one.
Derek scoffs. “Only when she’s being difficult.” He says it so nonchalantly that I’m taken aback. “Like tonight. She decides to ignore my text messages just for me to look outside and see her withyou.” He sneers in my direction again, looking at me like I’m the stuff on the bottom of his shoe.
Why would she ever want to converse with someone likeme? What a ridiculous concept. I roll my eyes.
One of our frat brothers drunkenly passes by, completely oblivious to the situation. He looks back with a wrinkled nose, staring at Derek. “You fucking reek, dude,” he tells him before continuing on his way.
That’s when I notice it. My nostrils flare. Derek may smell like alcohol and sex, but that’s it. There’s none of the lovely floral notes or decadent vanilla that I got hints of outside. I may not be an alpha, but I’d have to be nose-blind to not smell her.
“You certainly don’t smell like your girlfriend right now,” I sneer back. I can feel my pack mates’ eyes on me, but I don’t focus on it. I’m too busy thinking that there may actually be a fight after all. Before I can step any further, Atlas joins Uriah in separating us. We’ve gathered a bit of a crowd in our frat house’s small living room.
“So what?” he asks. “Like I said, she’s being difficult.”
I feel Atlas pull the back of my shirt before I even realize I’m trying to advance on Derek.
I am seething. All I can picture is Stacia off somewhere, tripping and not knowing her boyfriend is being an absolute fucking creep. And I have no way of contacting her because I gave hermynumber and forgot to get hers.
“Let me get this straight.” I take a few deep breaths. “Your girlfriend was high and on the verge of tripping, and you’re over here cheating on her all because you saw hertalkingto me?”
Before he can answer, a certain familiar baritone carries over to us. “That’s so fucked up.”
