Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(5)

“Oh, this? It’s not— We’re not like that,” he said, although I could hear the lie in his voice, the rickety wobbling notes.

“I don’t need to know what you’re like. I just need to go,” I said, my own voice hollow as I rounded him carefully, waiting for him to strike, to grab at me again. Fuck.

See Lola? It doesn’t have to be an alpha. You can always be at risk. Now look at what this routine has gotten you into.

“Seriously, wait, please. Let me explain,” he said. He held himself back, hands raised and open, non-threatening. He didn’t need to do anything to be threatening. He had that mark, which meant that somewhere out there—maybe not in the club, but probably not far—was an alpha with a claim on this beta.

I rushed for the door, let out a brief, terrified whimper as he lunged to follow me. The sound stopped him, my back braced against the door and my entire body trembling, waiting for him to strike.

“I would never hurt you,” he said, eyes huge. His lips were still bitten pink with my kisses, and his fingers were still shining with my release.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid.

I slid to the side and opened the door, ignoring the twist of my heart and the flinch in his gaze, before rushing out into the hall. I ran down the hall, refusing to look over my shoulder, the lines of the walls seeming endless as my heart rate started to speed.

Breathe. Breathe you fucking idiot. Breathe. Just breathe.

I shoved my way through the crowd, pulling my coat check ticket from the small pocket at the front of my dress, and spared a glance behind me. No sign of him. There was a brief, contrary pang of disappointment, but it evaporated quickly, my heel clicking against the floor as I waited for them to bring me my purse. People were passing me, brushing up against me, and every point of contact was excruciating. My own skin fit wrong as I tried to hold onto the remaining threads of calm, to keep breathing, to pretend that the ceiling wasn’t crashing down on me.

Fucking stupid.

I avoided the coat check girl’s fingers as I took my purse, rushing for the exit as I drew up the app on my phone to call a beta-only cab. I was never coming back to this club. Never risking another chance meeting with that beta.

It might be time to give up the routine altogether if I could stand it.

I marched two blocks in the dark, in my heels and my skimpy dress and my old leather jacket, meeting the cab outside a nearby bodega.

“Look at her, arching like an omega for that bite. Never gonna fuckin’ happen, Showgirl.”

“How’s your night goin’ gorgeous?” the woman asked me from the driver’s seat, making me twitch at the endearment. It hadn’t sounded so cheesy and unfamiliar on his tongue, but now the word was abrasive.

“Long,” I said, and there was a tense pause before the woman nodded and turned the radio on. The music was soft and moody, and I slunk down in my seat as we passed Philia, my eyes growing wide, panic rising in my chest. There he was, standing outside the doors between two of the security guards, scanning the sidewalk with wide eyes and a brow furrowed with worry.

With my fucking panties in his fist.





Two





Lola





I stared at my blaring phone the next morning, waiting until the last possible second to swipe.

“Hey,” I said, frowning at the crack in my voice. After my failed attempt at Philia ending in a shattering disaster, I hadn’t really gotten any sleep, which sucked considering it was my—

“Congrats! It’s your first day at Designate,” David sing-songed, voice too loud and echoey. He was on speakerphone, probably Bluetoothing it from his car service.

“I hadn’t forgotten,” I said, lips twitching. “Just like I hadn’t forgotten to set my alarm, in case that’s why you called.”

Not that his call would’ve done the trick. I hadn’t had my ringer on in over a year.

“I’m calling because this is a big day, Lo,” David said, losing his attempt at chipperness. Which was good because David was acerbic through and through, and chipper just came off as manic on him.

“I’m not gonna fuck this up, I promise,” I said, staring at my reflection in my bathroom mirror, trying to force the disappointed weariness off my features by will alone. When that failed, I flipped open my makeup case. When in doubt, paint it on.

“I didn’t—I know you’re not!”

“I know you went out on a limb for me,” I said, and David huffed. “I’m gonna rock this for you.”

“Lo…Jesus. Look, did I point their team to your old web series? Yes. But that’s it.”

“You put my application in.”

“Only because you were about to miss the deadline.”

I raised my eyebrow and then smirked when I remembered he couldn’t see me. “Thank you,” I said, slow and sincere.

I really needed this job. I really needed any job now that I’d finally put the bulk of my savings into this new apartment. It stung a little that in my attempt to get out of David’s hair, he ended up having to find me not just any job but my actual dream job in the Beauty Department of Designate Magazine.

“Ehn. Literally no one in this industry got in on merit alone, okay? We all knew someone, so I’m your person. I’m good with that. You just need to be good with that too.”