10. Oliver

10

OLIVER

C offee gives me life. Well, so do blowjobs. And I'm spoiled enough to have been given both this morning.

Like most days, the three of us are off to our separate tasks. Emmett has a few meetings and Samuel will do anything to keep himself busy.

With a peck on my lips, Emmett struts his sexy ass out the door. I will my cock to calm itself with a reminder that we already got attention this morning. Thinking about my alpha's hot mouth and tight throat wrapped around my throbbing dick doesn't help.

A second slam of the front door closing snaps me out of the sexy memory from this morning. In its place is disappointment and a little anger at Samuel. I'm in a good enough mood that Samuel's silent, broody departure doesn't bother me too much. Not that he would notice if it bugged me. His head is too far up his ass, and I'm a pro at hiding my feelings.

All my big brother will ever get from me is a wide smile because he doesn't deserve to know how I really feel. Sam doesn't need to know how much power he has.

Not only was I abandoned by my best friend, my fucking scent match , but Amaya took my older brother from me that day too. With her went Samuel. He dove head fucking first into his anger issues and shitty outlook on life in her wake.

Gone was the brother I had looked up to all my life. Even at just a year older, I thought he ruled the world. Well, he proved me wrong. Sam squashed the pedestal I put him on when he refused to look beyond his fucked up emotions.

We were all hurt by Amaya leaving, but Samuel abandoned me too. He chose his anger toward her over me. Five goddamn years later and he's still fucked up over her.

I mean, I get it, but the bridges he's burning in his family is ridiculous. All because he can't acknowledge his issues.

He's not the only one struggling .

My eyes catch the red glow of the time on the microwave, effectively shutting down that depressing train of thought. I have a showing in ten minutes.

Denial and humor are the pillars of my life.

We're all working to survive, and that's just how I manage to live with the heartache of an Amaya-sized hole in my soul.

My dads would have my ass if they knew I showed up at the same time as a client. I'm usually professionally early, but I miscalculated my timing. My showing this morning is in our neighborhood, which gave me a false sense of security. Turns out I did need to plan to leave a few minutes earlier.

I'm walking up the driveway of the five-bedroom contemporary home on our block when a sleek black something- or-other pulls in. I did my research on the lawyer I'm showing around today, and let's just say there should be zero issue with him affording the house.

Plus, he hasn't even toured it yet, but at this point it’s just a formality. All that's left is the quick tour and the signing of a fuck ton of dotted lines. The alpha is looking to buy for his daughter. If that doesn't scream money, then I don't know what does.

Emmett would tell me to calm the judgmental thoughts, so I keep it to myself and plaster on a signature Oliver Jenkins smile as I rush to the front door. I'm not worried about setting up; we have a great staff for things like that. Everything should be taken care of. Now all I have to do is not fuck this up for us.

Happy-go-lucky, funny, energetic. Those are all things I can be; it's just a matter of if this guy appreciates it. Those traits made me popular in middle and high school, but the older I get the more I'm coming to realize that it can be misconstrued as immature. Unfortunately, that's my only setting and the off button is really hard to find.

Well, aside from the heartache, abandonment issues, and a general self-confidence struggle that comes from my best friend and scent match, leaving me.

"Good morning," I chirp, shoving the negativity down and locking it away. Nobody likes interacting with the face of depression and self-depreciation.

Emmett sends a trickle of warning through our bond. Having picked up on the emotions I just shoved away, then all but telling myself nobody would care for the real me? Yeah, Emmett's going to have my ass later.

Can't wait.

When my alpha gets protective and grumpy? Mmm, he can have my ass however he wants it.

"Good morning," Mr. Arison rumbles, stepping inside and wiping his shoes on the shoe mat.

I turn and amble my way to the kitchen. It's a gorgeous open floor plan, but the warm wood tones and cream walls give it a cozy vibe, in my opinion.

Rounding the kitchen island, I admire the job our stage managers did. “How are yo—" I choke.

Paul Arison's scent slams into me as he comes to a stop at the other side of the counter. Beneath his fresh winter aroma, notes of spring, more specifically lavender niggles my nose. Fighting the stiffening of my limbs, I take a shuddering breath because the combination of scents coming from the alpha doesn't make sense. For one person .

All my thoughts come to a screeching halt when I notice the flowers on the marble countertop. Like cars, I'm not good with names of plants, but the yellow and white petals ease my conscience.

"Are you alright?"

Shaking off the lavender smell wafting from the flowers, I snap to attention and plaster a smile on my face. "My apologies, sir. How are you today?"

Chit chat isn't my favorite and I wholeheartedly admit that I am not paying attention to what Mr. Arison has to say or how I'm responding to him.

Lavender has settled on my tongue and if that wasn't jarring enough to smell something so similar to my omega, the moment I caught Paul’s gaze when discussing the heated flooring in the bathroom, I almost freaked out again.

I've seen those eyes. Wolfish brown eyes with striking gold sprinkled in their depths. Except, as quickly as I see Amaya in him, Mr. Arison shifted, and the light snatched the gold away.

Just like the promise of money snatched my mate away.

Samuel slams our link shut, probably annoyed with the extra emotion he's feeling from me. Emmett sends me probing concern, but I shake it off. It's not something they aren't used to, my well of feelings, but for my emotions to spike and spin while giving a tour is a little odd, I guess.

The lighting in the pack bedroom and ensuite bathroom are extra warm, to make the environment as soothing for an omega as possible.

My heart thuds and stutters painfully when I open the door to the nest. The whiplash is almost unbearable. Missing her is unbearable. The lavender isn't Amaya, it's the flowers decorating just about every room. She's not following me around and hyping up the gnarly scar through my lips like she did when we were fifteen.

I didn't see her reflected in the eyes of the stranger walking through this house for sale. She's not staring up at me with mischief in her eyes and hands on her hips like she used to when we would plan a prank on the other two.

Fuck, I miss her.

"Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. I will be in touch to schedule a time to finalize everything." When had we gotten back to the front door? "I just need to tell my daughter," he mumbles.

"Tell her what? Was everything acceptable?" I ask, confused.

Paul's lips twist and if I weren't mistaken, he looks a little embarrassed. Or maybe worried, I can't tell; he's got an exquisite mask. I suppose to be one of Baltimore’s best lawyers, he would have to.

"I uh... I haven't told her I'm buying her a house."

My eyes widen as he rubs the back of his neck. I laugh, unable to help myself. "Well, that will be a grand surprise!"

"We'll see. Talk soon. Thanks again." Then he's walking down the porch steps and getting into his fancy car.

I have to say, it's really unsettling seeing such a powerful alpha act so nervous. I don't know anything about his daughter, but I really fucking hope we aren't about to get a spoiled brat for a neighbor.

With the door open, the wind sweeps away the scent of spring and lavender. I miss it almost immediately, and debate grabbing one of the vases to bring home; but Samuel might go feral if he smells anything at all similar to Amaya.

Locking the door behind me, I take the short walk home to clear my sinuses and mind. Well, not really. I just focus on the promise of Emmett's delicious punishment.

I can already feel the heat of his handprint on my ass.