Page 107 of Choosing Their Omega

This is more honest than I would be if I was giving this tour to any of the rich strangers who bid on it. Those people aren’t owed my personal life story, especially not the more… painful parts of it.

I know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to my financial situation. It doesn’t make you a bad person to be poor. But it’s still embarrassing to talk about.

These aren’t strangers, though. These are my Alphas. They already know what my situation was, and even if they didn’t… well, if I can’t trust my Alphas then who can I possibly trust?

Miles nods seriously in response to my statement. “For me, it was always going to look up at the stars and observe them through a telescope. It was a way to escape from everything else.”

“Exactly.” I smile with relief. I should’ve known that at least one of my Alphas would understand.

That’s something I appreciate about them that I didn’t ever really think about before I met them. Love isn’t just about making you feel special or seen. It’s also about being understood.

“This first one is The Last Bookstore.” I lead the Alphas inside, to a world where the bookshelves are painted bright red, and books are stacked everywhere. “The owners decided to name it that because they take in a lot of used books and sort of give them a second chance. It’s the last stop for books. They even rebind books that need it.”

Toward the front of the bookstore is a long counter with a glass case over it, similar to the kind you find in jewelry stores. Under the glass are beautiful hardcover handbound books. They have embroidery incorporated into their covers, or the edges of the pages are painted so that when the book is closed it makes an image, or they’re bound in leather with intricate tool work done on it.

They’re beautiful, and super expensive.

“These works are done by the owner’s wife.” I smile as I survey the books. “I love looking at them, they’re so beautiful, aren’t they? These tend to be samples and done with popular classics like Dracula or The Lord of the Rings so that there’s a higher likelihood someone will want to buy the sample, but she also does commissions a lot. I’m pretty sure this is how the bookstore actually makes most of its money.”

“Wow.” Cruz whistles low between his teeth. “This stuff is seriously amazing. That’s real craftmanship.”

“Just how many books are you going to buy?” Knox asks, teasing but also astonished, as Lawson approaches the counter with two high piles of books in both of his hands.

“Hey, all those hockey workouts are coming in handy.” He grins. “As many as I can carry, that’s how many.”

“Do you see a book here that you particularly like?” Cruz asks me, his voice low so that he doesn’t interrupt Lawson and Knox playfully bickering while the teller rings up the total for Lawson’s books.

I look into the glass case. I’ve spent a lot of time staring at these beautiful bound books, wishing that I had the money to afford one of them. I never thought I would actually be able to afford one, though.

“Um…” I examine the books. I don’t want to get one just for the sake of having it. I want it to be a story that I’ll actually want to read and enjoy.

There are mostly classics in here. I skim the titles, admiring the workmanship… and see one for the collected works of Jane Austen.

I point it out to Cruz. “Jane Austen’s basically the person who created the tropes we use in romance today. I’m not sure if we’d call her stories comedies nowadays, but they’re still pretty lighthearted. And she’s still the gold standard for historical romances.”

The cover is done up in beautiful pastel purple leather with white, blue, and purple flowers embroidered in the center and the title stitched in at the top, with shining white metallic leaf embossed in small patterns. The pages on the side have a watercolor sketch on each of them, one of a ball, one of a picnic, and one of people taking tea.

Cruz grins. “Then it’s yours.”

“Hey, you already paid for this walking tour.”

“Someday,” Miles notes, “you’re going to figure out that we won’t stop spoiling you.”

“Besides,” Knox adds, and I jump because I didn’t realize he was listening in, “I’m pretty sure that book will cost less than however much Lawson’s dropping on his books.”

“Hey!” Lawson’s protest is a bit muffled behind all the bags of books he’s carrying.

Cruz buys me the beautiful book, and I take it out to the car while Lawson lugs along all of his books. Once we’ve deposited our purchases in the trunk, we start the tour again properly… with the other three telling Lawson he’s not allowed to buy anything more because they’re not helping him carry pounds of books all around the city.

I can’t help but laugh. I find it adorable. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to reading the dozens of romance novels he just purchased. He even has a list of my books on his phone so that he didn’t accidentally buy any duplicates.

From there, I show them the various other bookshops that I would frequent. I explain the history of the neighborhood each shop is in and recommend local cafés and coffeeshops for someone to visit with a new book purchase to enjoy it.

“It’s amazing how you can live in a city and know so little about it,” Miles notes as we head to our final stop in the tour: my favorite bookshop. “I feel like in some ways tourists know the city better than we do because they go out and explore all of this while we’re stuck in our routines.”

“Or stuck staring up at the sky,” Knox adds, teasing him gently.

“So what’s this place?” Cruz asks as we walk up.

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