Page 5 of Begrudgingly Yours
Yeah… no.
I walk down the aisle between the rows of seats and spot a head full of blue hair. She’s reading over her lines and fidgeting with her earring when I sit down beside her, the old wooden seat creaking beneath me.
Rory looks over at me and rolls her eyes. “Ah, Jett. All of these empty seats and you still chose to sit next to me. How riveting.”
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention… she hates me.
Freshman year, we had our very first drama class together. I hadn’t been an alpha for very long, so my hormones were all over the place. I remember when I first scented her, it was like nothing I had ever encountered before. My alpha was screaming in my chest, and that possessiveness scared me to my core. Then my dick had sprouted wings almost instantly—to the point of pain—which freaked me the fuck out. When shefinally came over to me and introduced herself, I had butchered the first impression.
I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was definitely something that shouldn’t have left my mouth. The words were meant to overcompensate for the uneasiness that I was feeling, but they completely backfired. All I recall was trying to act cool and nonchalant for my scent match, but instead I offended her.
I may not remember the words, but the image of her face reacting to it is glued to my brain. The way she glared, the little omega hiss she gave me before she walked away. I remember thinking that she looked hot, but I also felt a great deal of shame from the whole ordeal.
That’s another reason why I haven’t come clean to her about being her scent match. I may be inherently terrified of a rejected mate scenario between the two of us. She obviously deplores me. So, instead, I play the role of who she needs me to be. I’m the arrogant son of a bitch that she can’t stand, who just happens to be in the same major as her.
I’d rather be that than nothing. At least this way, shethinksabout me. She’s not indifferent to our interactions, even if that means they annoy her. I would take any kind of anger or annoyance from her, anything to keep her gaze on me.
Rory can hate me as much as she wants, as long as she feels something for me.
I give her a sideways smirk. “What’s up, twilight?”
Rory huffs out a frustrated breath. She hates when I call her that. She probably thinks I’m making fun of her love of paranormal fiction or something, but I’m actually referring to her blue hair. It’s dark again, the same shade of night that it was when we met. I didn’t mind the cyan, but the deep indigo suits her.
Before she can retort back, Professor Chapman waltzes into the room and goes right to his podium. He’s a bit of a grump forsomeone so passionate about Shakespeare. There hasn’t been a single moment where he isn’t scowling.
“Alright, everyone. Every minute counts today so let’s go right into the auditions. Don’t forget, callbacks will be posted on Monday and will happen during class next week.” He writes something down and then looks around at all of us, his eyes settling on me. “Mr. Fitzgerald, how about you start us off?”
I sigh with relief. Going first is best for the nerves. I lean over to Rory and speak low enough so only she can hear me. “Good luck.”
The seat creaks again as I stand up and go give it my finest shot. I just hope I don’t stumble over myself in front of my scent match.
THREE
Playing: better off by Ariana Grande
I butchered the audition.
At least, I feel like I did. After being subjected to Jett fucking Fitzgerald, my focus was less on my words and more on how his eyes refused to leave me.
I mean, we were forced to audition in front of the entire class so technically he didn’t do anything wrong, but he could have at leasttriedto do something else. Take out his phone, go over his own lines. Butno. He had to sit there and watch me with those lasers disguised as eyes.
Stunning, beautiful green eyes. Ones that slant slightly when he’s nonchalantly pissing me off.
I swear he does it on purpose. This intimidating act of his. He loves making me flustered and it’s the absolute worst because he’s so good at it.
I like to pride myself on being practically un-moveable. It feels so out of character for this alphato have this kind of control over me. And the fact that I can’tsmellhim drives me up the fucking wall.
I thought he was a beta for months when we first met because omegas and alphas can only smell betas if they’re scent matches, in the same pack, or related. Then I overhead him say something about being an alpha to one of our classmates and it threw my whole theory into the water.
Then why can’t I fuckingsmellhim?
It’s a conspiracy, I swear.
Not to mention, he’s fuckinghot. With his worn-out leather jackets and his long wavy hair. It’s fuckinginfuriating.
There’s practically smoke coming out of my ears by the time I make it to the dining hall. I grab a tray and go down the line, trying to focus on my breathing while scooping up as many tater tots as I can: the dinner of a future academy-award winner.
My best friend Stacia is already sitting at our usual spot with two of her scent matches. Her and Kendall laugh together at something Ciro said, their joy vibrating; it’s palpable in the air even from across the hall. I can’t hide the smile that it brings to my face.
