Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

B ram holds my hand as we walk around his development for what feels like hours, both of us talking about our childhoods, what we do and don’t like.

He’s exactly what I thought, rough exterior but gooey on the inside.

The fact that he isn’t a sharer but wants to try for me already has my little Omega heart squealing. Yes, I indeed can change his mind.

It’s honestly a little pathetic on my end. But what started as infatuation before the night began is now a full-blown crush. I’ll probably be doodling Bram Nilsen designs or the number forty-three and then laminating them for preservation purposes.

Being “all in” kind of people seems to be a common thread that both Bram and I have. But there’s still a big fat elephant following us as we walk through the pretty tree-lined streets of his neighborhood.

Sharing.

We’ve brought up the fact that I’m looking for a pack, but there’s so much that goes into that, like dating other people while still getting to know Bram.

I know one Alpha will not be enough for me during my first heat, and I also can’t conceptualize the idea of going into heat without feelings. I need that connection almost as much as I want to bond and build this dream life for myself.

“Should we talk about the pack stuff?” I ask him, squeezing his massive hand.

He looks out over the lake, and some weird growling noise emanates from his chest. I definitely didn’t forget how he purred earlier when we kissed. Part of me wants to climb him right now and make him do it again while we make out.

But as much as I want to change his mind on his sharing stance, I don’t want to fundamentally change him. He wants to take it slow, it’s something that’s important to him, and as badly as I’d like to just test drive his knot, I’m going to have to be patient.

“I think it would be best that I don’t know until you’ve decided someone is worth your time,” he says, and I click my tongue, wondering if that’s the best way to go about this.

I try to think back to my mother Willow’s stories of how they became a pack; it wasn’t all smooth sailing, and I don’t expect building my own pack to be any different.

Bram is adjusting for me, so I’ll do the same for him.

“Okay, deal, we won’t talk about it until I think it’s worth bringing up. But should I tell them about you?”

“Yes,” he says quickly, and I bite my lip.

I’m not sure how well this possessive Alpha will do in a pack setting, but I already like how intense he seems about me. Now I’d like to double it by two more men who will be equally as obsessed with me.

Maybe it’s weird that the two other people currently invading my thoughts are two people Bram knows.

But he just clearly said he didn’t want to know until it was serious. I only have a friendship with Max and Ethan, no matter how cute or intriguing I find them. Again, counting my chickens before they hatch.

The sun has long set as Bram walks me over to my car. The large Alpha seems a little lost for words and how to act when I unlock the vehicle and stand there.

“Bram?”

“Hmm.”

“Kiss me good night, and tell me what a lovely time we had.”

He gives me a rare smile, one that tells me that I was right about him. That this pull toward him wasn’t just because of his scent or looks. There’s something more here, and we’d be fools not to explore it.

His large hand cradles the back of my head, and I quickly realize I’m addicted to the sheer size of him. Maybe it’s because I know he’d be a great protector or I like feeling small. Either way, I want his hands to explore more than just my face.

Feeling bold, I place my palms against his muscular chest that’s tragically covered by a tight gray T-shirt.

“I had a lovely evening. Can we do this again when I have another free day?” he asks, and I nod.

I’m more than familiar with a professional hockey player’s schedule. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I approached him and laid all my cards out on the table.

He has to lean down significantly to kiss me, and I take that moment to really explore his chest.

Good lord, I might just faint when I see him shirtless.

His lips are soft and sweet, completely different to the way he usually carries himself. I can tell he’s using all of his self control, which makes me want to break it even further.

I’ve never been much of a rule follower, and when I want something, I want it. But I’m also trying to respect his wishes.

We’ll take it as slow as I can possibly tolerate.

When he pulls back, I groan in frustration.

“Patience,” he tells me, rubbing his thumb along the back of my neck.

“I’m not the most patient.”

“I know you aren’t,” he says with a smile. “Text me as soon as you get home?”

That sends a flutter in my belly as I nod my head and begrudgingly get into my car and drive home from what might have been the sweetest date I could have ever asked for.

I don’t live far, and as soon as I park and walk up to my apartment, I send him a message.

Home safe.

Bram

Think of me. Good night, Sloane.

I melt into my mattress and dip into my toy drawer to take care of this built up sexual frustration and do exactly as he says. I come alone, but the idea of his scent and body are in the forefront of my mind while I do.

Changing a mascot’s uniform is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but the owner, my dad, and the marketing team have all agreed to my changes. It took a lot of big Omega doe eyes and comparing us to the other conference team mascots, but they crumbled under my persuasion.

I collected the pantone colors, created a sketch with extremely detailed instructions, and sent it off to a local woman who seemed to do work for the furry community. I just so happened to leave that aspect out of my presentation.

I also don’t let it get to my head when she tells me it’s the most detailed instructions she’s ever seen for a costume, and she's fortunately agreed to move us up in her schedule.

Finnegan the Fox should have a brand new look right before the Humane Society ribbon cutting and the first game of the season.

I already exchanged numbers with Max and Ethan so that we can plan our meetings. I could have taken it from the employee registrar, but I’m attempting to not break any more rules than necessary.

Me: Check out the new Finnegan the Fox costume.

Ethan

Holy shit, Sloane. You’re a genius.

Max

Less Rabid, more like that animated Fox with charisma.

I cover my mouth in laughter, realizing the cartoon Max is bringing up. Now that I look at it, he isn’t completely wrong. Though Finnegan is wearing a home jersey and not a slouchy button-up shirt.

Ethan

Way to make it fucking weird, man.

Max

Am I wrong?

No, you’re not wrong.

Ethan

I feel sexualized.

Anyway. It will be here before the Humane Society event, so we can unveil it then. Max, I need you to think of some item you can bring for the kids to sign and prepare for a hefty donation.

Max

You got it, boss.

My stomach does a little flip, and I feel a little of a fuck it moment coming on.

Do you two want to meet to discuss the event?

Ethan

I have a shift at the diner, but we could meet after. I’ll treat you two to some pie.

Max

Sly fox with his sly pie. I’ll be there at eight.

Ethan

Sloane, I don’t feel safe. I need hot fox insurance.

I’ll see you two weirdos there.

I smile to myself, setting the phone to the side, and try to focus on the rest of my day. I schedule a few posts and plan out a thorough schedule for the team and my side project for Max and Ethan.

There may be some intervals of daydreaming, but I’m thoroughly knocked back into reality when my dad knocks on the side of my cubicle.

“Sloane, hun,” he says. I have a smile, which quickly fades as I see my pinched face grandmother beside him.

Her back is arched straight, her blonde and gray hair in a tight chignon as she eyes my cubicle with disdain.

“Kristoff, why is she working? Is your pack on hard times?” she says.

My father takes a deep inhale through his nose and shakes his head. “No, Sloane wanted to work.”

“You are pretty and young. You should have a pack by now,” she says, not pulling any punches and hitting me right in the gut.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m going to go to one of those facilities where you have your heat serviced.”

Her mouth parts in shock, and my father sighs.

“She is not. She’s currently working with a matchmaker.”

“You’re here early, Mormor.”

“Yes, well, I seem to have confused my dates,” she says tersely. “It would be such a shame if this was the last time I could visit the states with no great-grandchildren in sight,” she says, and my mouth drops.

“Right. Let’s get to lunch. Sloane, we’ll see you at home.”

“I have a thing this evening. I won’t be there for dinner.”

“Sloane,” he says more sternly.

“Sorry, I can’t change my plans. I wasn’t expecting her till tomorrow.”

My father huffs out a breath. I can feel the tension radiating out of him. It’s the effect she has every time she visits.

“This is much smaller than the other team’s facility,” she says as my father gives me one last pleading look. I shrink away, turning back to my computer.

I decide in that moment, I’ll just go to the diner early cause there’s no way in hell I’m coming home to that disaster.

There’s another knock at my cubicle, and I brace myself for another god-awful conversation. But I’m greeted by a delivery man holding a vase full of peonies instead.

“Sloane Applegate?” he asks, and I nod my head as he has me sign for the flowers.

When I open the card, my heart flutters.

Sloane,

Pretty flowers for a pretty Omega.

Missing you,

Bram

It’s short and sweet, just like him. I put them on display on my desk but pocket the card so no one sees. If my dad asks, I’ll tell him it’s one of the matchmaker suitors. I inhale the floral scent and swoon.

Bram fucking Nilsen is courting me.

Maybe I can pull this all off after all.