Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(22)

When his knee grazed mine, I slid back an inch, and he glanced down to the spot, eyes narrowing. He looked up again, smiling brightly, but I thought there was a hint of curiosity or dissection in his gaze, and I forced myself to stay still and not try and lean away from the aura of omega perfume that hovered around him.

“I thought I probably couldn’t go wrong with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” he said, dropping the flowers and paper bag down on the counter. I scooped up the bouquet as if it might act as a shield, while Rakim folded down the paper bag and brought out two foil-wrapped sandwiches.

“You say peanut butter and jelly, but I feel like you mean it in an artisanal way,” I said, watching him unwrap a hearty looking coarse bread that oozed with fresh strawberry jam.

“Guilty,” Rakim said, smiling. “Cyrus texted to say that my surprise was kind of spoiled?”

I nodded and looked down at the flowers in my arms. They were deeply fragrant, but they still didn’t stand up against Rakim’s rich perfume. Omega perfume didn’t have quite the same effect on betas as it did alphas, but I did find myself with a soft aching in my stomach, almost like hunger.

“Wendy told me this morning that you wanted to borrow me. I’m not sure I’m qualified, honestly,” I said.

“Wendy hates me, so I’m sure she did the worst job ever selling the idea,” Rakim said, waving his hand through the air as his tongue slipped out to lick away jam from the corner of his mouth.

He hadn’t shaved recently, and his beard was growing dark and dense and soft looking. He had the effortlessly casual and stylish look down—a weathered leather jacket on his shoulders over a t-shirt and wool pants rolled up slightly to show off his dark, laced boots. It was meant to look approachable, but I had a feeling that the price tag on even the t-shirt would’ve made me gape.

“Here’s the honest truth,” Rakim said, setting his sandwich back on the foil and sucking his thumb clean in a way that made me clench my thighs, his own good looks entirely to blame instead of his scent. “I never used to bring my own crew to these kinds of events, but I was getting…not harassed exactly, but…”

“By alphas,” I said.

He looked up and met my gaze. “No. Betas, actually. Like I said, not harassed, but I was dealing with a lot of people getting into my space, trying to cultivate relationships to find an in with one of my alphas. Sometimes it was physically uncomfortable, but mostly it was emotionally exhausting.” Rakim shrugged.

“To have people trying to take your alpha’s attention?”

Rakim frowned and shook his head. “No, it’s not…We’ve all had relationships outside the pack, myself included. That’s how Leo joined us. I just don’t like being used. The men in my pack are all grown-ass adults, they can find their own fuck buddies. And someone pretending to be my friend isn’t going to automatically find their way into our home.”

I looked down at the bouquet in my lap again and swallowed hard. Did he think I was—

“Oh, shit, no! I didn’t mean it like that,” Rakim rushed, reaching out and grabbing my wrist before I could pull away. “Sorry, no. Look, I’ll be professional now. I was already considering asking you to jump in for fashion week before…um…”

“Before you knew for certain I wasn’t chasing your alphas,” I supplied for him, knowing he would’ve heard the full details from the rest of his pack by now.

“Ye-yeah. I guess I just didn’t want you to think I was a stuck up fashion diva the way Wendy probably made me sound.”

He sounded sincere; he looked it too, holding my gaze. His fingers were still wrapped loosely around my wrist, thumb swirling over my pulse, and the touch was somewhere between intimate and friendly.

“About Leo,” I started.

“Lola, honestly, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“But he is part of your pack—”

“He is, and your relationship together won’t change that,” Rakim said, with a firm and gentle certainty.

I blinked and pulled my hand free of his. He hadn’t meant the words as a warning, but I needed to take them as one. Did I really want to get involved with someone who would always belong to others first?

“This got…off track,” I said, putting the flowers on the counter and fussing with one of the folded edges of the wrapped sandwich. “The only makeup I’ve done for you was a cover-up.”

Rakim sighed and stretched taller in the desk chair. “True. I suppose I figured if you didn’t think you could do it, you’d let me know. You didn’t seem like someone who would take the opportunity if you knew you’d bomb it. And it’s not like there won’t be teams of other professionals on hand.”

I sucked in a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. “Okay. I do think I can do it.”

Rakim’s smile wasn’t quite as bright at Cyrus’ but it went all the way to his eyes, making them glitter. “Awesome. There’s going to be a car at your place Friday morning at, and I’m so sorry about this, but the ass crack of dawn. Like four-thirty. But if you text me your coffee and pastry order, it’ll be waiting for you. I’ll talk to Wes about getting us beta security too, so you aren’t stressed out. There will be some alphas backstage, but they usually give me space anyway, out of respect to my pack,” he rattled off, eyes rolling.