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Chapter Eight
Scott
I’m kissing Lizzie on the beach, her delicious scent in my nose, when suddenly everything gets very sloppy and unpleasant. Something wet and cold nudges my cheek, and my eyes fly open. I’m immediately greeted by dog breath and another lick on the chin. The light in here is dim, a tūī doing its best to wake the neighbourhood just outside the window.
“Ugh, Barry.” I gently push his head away, and realise with horror that I’m not alone in the bed.
Lizzie is sleeping peacefully on her side next to me, where she must have climbed in after her shower. Which must have happened after I fell asleep without even touching her.
Fuck.
Falling asleep without reciprocating on any partner—let alone a gorgeous, scent-matched omega—is definitely up there in terms of nightmare scenarios.
“Dude, why didn’t you wake me?” I whisper to Barry, who simply wags his tail and nudges my hand as if to say I’m waking you now.
“Last night would have been better, mate.” He nudges my hand again with his wet nose and I carefully slide out from under the sheets. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting up. Hold your horses. I know you’ve gotta pee.”
I pull on a t-shirt and shorts, glancing back at Lizzie while Barry makes an impatient circuit of the room, his paws quiet on the plush carpet. The sheets have fallen down her body, revealing one pale shoulder and the ample curve of her breast, the dusky pink edge of her nipple just visible. While logically I know there’s going to be more opportunities to have sex with her—she’s my scent-matched omega who has a heat due soon—the cave man part of me is not a fan of delayed gratification, and I’m absolutely kicking myself for messing up. I was just so knackered last night after my big drive, but I’m not going to wake her up at six in the morning for sex when she specifically mentioned she’s not a morning person while we were out on our walk.
“New rule, Baz, I’m never lying down on a bed ever again,” I say as I open the ranchslider out to Matiu’s backyard. It’s a nice place in an expensive suburb, and it has me wondering how big his mortgage is.
He’d been friendly yesterday, on his best behaviour, as had I. There were moments when I even forgot that we’d ever had a falling out, where the conversation flowed just as naturally as it did back when we were in our early twenties. I’d been nervous to meet Lizzie, but everything about her is perfect, amazing, fantastic. Everything with her clicks. And she’s fucking gorgeous, with the best pair of tits I’ve ever seen.
But Matiu… How this is going to work out with Matiu in the mix scares me. We’ve had a pack before and we lost it. It broke our friendship apart.
It’s something we should probably tell Lizzie about, but Matiu’s right—it seems like too soon to talk about all the negatives. I don’t want to scare her away.
Barry runs a quick lap of the yard, sniffing about before choosing a spot to do his business. I look around the empty lounge, the whole place covered in Matiu’s scent, and wonder again why the universe thought this situation would be a good idea.
Lizzie emerges from the bedroom just as I’m returning from another walk to the beach. She smiles at me, blushing, and bends to shower Barry with attention, calling him her “Goodest boy,” and planting multiple kisses on the top of his head. His tail wags rapidly as he practically dances in front of her, and it fills me with relief to see her so comfortable around him. I hand her the takeaway hot chocolate and the pie I bought her from the local bakery on the way back, and she grins like I’ve just handed her the world.
“Thank you! What is this?” she asks, peering into the small brown paper bag.
“A steak and cheese pie. I figured I had to get you the classic first. You said you hadn’t tried them yet.”
“You eat meat pies for breakfast?”
“Why not? There’s no rules around them. Come on Barry, you leave her alone and stop begging for food. I’ll get you your second breakfast, ya greedy guts.”
Lizzie takes a seat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, where Matiu is already frying up bacon, eggs, and sausages. His nostrils flare ever so slightly as he nears her, placing a glass of orange juice down in front of her, before he shoots me a look that I can still easily interpret, even after all these years.
You didn’t fuck her?
“Yeah, yeah. It's my fault. I fell asleep while she was showering, and the next thing I knew it was morning and Barry was waking me so I could let him out to take a shit. You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you,” I say, turning towards her. “I'm sorry about last night.”
“Don't apologise. I'm the one that took too long in the shower. I lost track of time and I felt so bad, but you looked so peaceful and I didn’t know if you’d want to be woken after such a big day.”
“I'm pretty sure I fell asleep within two minutes of you getting in there, so it’s definitely my fault,” I admit. I run a hand down my face. “I usually break the trip up over two days if I'm driving. I was just too knackered last night. Still am, to be honest.”
“This is the end of your work year, right? You take a break over your summer? This is really good, by the way,” she adds, pointing to her pie. The paper bag it’s wrapped in rustles as she takes another bite, flakes of pastry falling on the countertop in front of her.
“It’s technically the end on the 20th,” I reply, “but I decided to take an extra week off on this side of Christmas, so this is officially my first day off. It’s worked out well; I was gonna head up to the bach later this week anyway.”
“We get four weeks of paid annual leave a year,” Matiu elaborates. “But our work closes down over Christmas, so three of those weeks are forced leave during that time.” He pushes a plate across the breakfast bar to her. It’s a full big breakfast, complete with fried cherry tomatoes, poached eggs, and a thick piece of toast.
“Oh my god,” she says, setting down her half-eaten pie and taking the cutlery he offers her. “You guys are spoiling me! I can’t eat all this food!”
“Just do your best. Between us and the dog, it won’t go to waste,” he tells her.
