I close my eyes and shake my head. How do I even respond to that? I don’t even know for certain who answers on the other side of the line.
Dickhead: You want Des?
Me: Yes.
Dickhead: Why?
I sigh, trying to stay calm. His texts leave me unsure. I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or being flirtatious. It’s not like I need to talk to Desmond, but I’m anxious and getting annoyed.
Me: Never mind. I know why you’re listed as Dickhead.
Setting the phone down, I grab the plate of fruit and cheese, taking it with me back to the couch. I curl my legs under me, listening to the phone buzzing a dozen times on the table. Ignoring it, I pop a couple of cubes of the cheddar cheese into my mouth, savoring the taste. I forgot how good cheese was. It’s been a while since I’ve had any since it was out of my budget.
It’s in my best interest not to look around, but I can’t stand just sitting here for another moment.
I set my empty plate next to me and get to my feet. Desmond has a huge TV in the sitting area, but I don’t know how to use it or where the remote is. I stroll to his bookcase, my curiosity getting the best of me.
A couple of knickknacks and a few framed photos rest alongside books I’ve never heard of. Some look like fantasy and others historical. He might even have a romance or two, but they all look like they’re on the shelf merely for decoration none of the book spines cracked or bent.
Seeing the collection ignites my nosiness, pushing me along, and I meander around the perimeter of his suite, taking my time to check out every inch of his living quarters. I look into his kitchen, smaller than Enzo’s, and open each cupboard. He has a stockpile of nuts, dried fruit, crackers, and granola. Nothing sugary or sweet apart from a small container of chocolate-covered raisins. And I can’t resist. I snatch the bag and open it, digging in. I pop a handful into my mouth and close my eyes, savoring the sweetness. I discover a cupboard of expensive-looking alcohol and another full of different kinds of tumblers and wine glasses. There’s not much else in the kitchen except for a basket of fruit and bread.
I wonder if he might be vegetarian, because I don’t see any meat like in Enzo’s fridge. It looked like he had raided a fucking butcher shop.
The phone continues to buzz on the table, and I walk past it, only peeking to see twenty-two unread messages. It takes everything in me not to read them. If I give in to the temptation, I won’t be able to resist responding. If I do, I doubt anyone will check on me in person.
While Desmond and Enzo might want to, I suspect the other guys will deem me okay because I can text and force them to ignore me for another day or two. They’ve made it obvious that they don’t know what to do since they accidentally kidnapped me. I suspect there is a lot more going on because of it.
The phone lights up, buzzing with a phone call. Again, I resist even touching the device and turn in a circle, trying to decide what else I can search through. I spot the door to Desmond’s wardrobe. Peering over my shoulder, I study his bedroom door, squinting as if I can see through it to check for Desmond coming, and then turn back to the double racks of clothes I spot through the small crack.
Fuck it.
I know I definitely shouldn’t go into his wardrobe and snoop around. There’s a huge difference from riffling through the common areas like the kitchen and living area, but if I’m going to make my way through anyone’s personal belongings and clothes, it’s best to stick to a beta.
Desmond’s less likely to scream at me for touching his things without permission. Maybe I’ll find out something that can help me. Yeah, it’s unlikely in a wardrobe, but since I’ve gotten this far...
A line of tuxedos and suit jackets hang neatly along one wall with pants beneath them. There’s a shoe rack with all sorts of dress shoes, and a small display case of glittering jewelry, mostly watches and cufflinks. I can’t really imagine Desmond wearing any of this, considering he was only wearing a shirt and jeans when I saw him, but I soon discover he keeps casual clothing in the drawers on the opposite side with the long mirror and accessories like ties, hats, and belts. I stroll the perimeter, touching the different fabrics, wondering what exactly they are. I’ve never felt fabric so soft.
“Kinsey?” a familiar voice calls through the air. “Fuck, where is she? I thought you said you didn’t think she was going to try to leave? I knew you should’ve blocked the door.”
I freeze in my spot, listening as Enzo talks to who I think might be Desmond, though I can’t see him.
“Calm the hell down. She hasn’t left.” I was right. Of course, it would be Desmond. I’m nearly certain that the other two alphas might be avoiding me completely.
I can’t really blame them. I don’t exactly want to meet them face-to-face either, especially after one of them was about to command my death for being a beta just to get rid of me like they had done to Mr. Clive.
“Kinsey? What are you doing in my wardrobe? Didn’t you see the clothing I left you?” Desmond stands in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. I was too concerned about being quiet and controlling my breathing that I didn’t even hear him cross the room.
“What does it look like she’s doing? Touching all your shit for fun. You know, baby, it’s not going to mess with Desmond. Though, the fact that you’re still wearing my shirt might.” Enzo stands beside Desmond and drapes his arm across his shoulders. “I guess it was pointless of you getting her something else. She looks good in my stuff anyway.” Enzo traces my silhouette with his finger. “Wear whatever you like. I don’t mind if you keep borrowing my clothes. Might as well come back to my suite, too.”
I knew he was flirting with me before. My body warms at his suggestion, the smirk on his face testing me for a reaction.
His scent grows stronger, his desire clear with the way he drinks me in, and it takes everything in me not to smile back at him. I’d be crazy to do so. Just because he shows me attention means nothing. Someone like him wouldn’t ever want someone like me for anything other than a good time. I’m sure his pack has someone lined up, and it won’t and can’t be me. I have nothing to offer besides my body. Omegas are chosen for alphas for more than that. Usually, territories and alliances with other packs are involved.
“She’s thinking about it, brother,” Enzo murmurs, speaking to Desmond as if I can’t hear him.
It knocks some sense back into me. I look between the two of them, their casual banter stopping fear from rising inside me but also reminding me of who I am in this moment. “I have my own clothes if you guys can just give me my bag back already. I don’t know why you don’t. My clothes are of no use to you. The other things are purely sentimental, so all you’re doing is proving you’re dicks and power-hungry.” I tighten my hands into fists, trying not to cower back in case my comment sets them off.
Enzo twists his lips and side glances Desmond. “Point taken. It wasn’t my decision to keep your bag, but I’ll make sure you get it from Wilder. Promise. He was just...looking into some things.”