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He shoves it to my chest and gives me an exasperated look. "I knew you wouldn't be wearing anything green or festive, so I got this for you."
I look down at the pin in my hand and roll my eyes at the cheesy phrase on it. Mason, on the other hand, looks obnoxiously festive. He's got on a tight green Henley t-shirt, green and white checkered pants. His whole arm is shoved in his bag as he goes back to rummaging in it.
He pulls out a handful of beads that he immediately tosses over his own neck, much to my relief, and places a headband with two four-leaf clovers bouncing back and forth by springs into his soft blonde hair.
"Alright goofball, let's go. Hudson is meeting us there."
* * *
An hour later, all three of us are feeling good, heading toward tipsy. We've been at the first bar for about forty minutes and each of us had a few shots, nursing a beer in between.
"Are we ready to head to the next bar?" Hudson asks, and Mason and I nod our agreement. I look at the bar crawl list on my phone, and it says the next bar is The Hog's Head, Ava’s bar. Ava is notorious around these parts. Everyone has a very healthy level of respect for the way she runs her business and how she treats her patrons. Even the drunk, aggressive, belligerent ones. She’s firm, but fair, and it’s how we met her in the first place. We’d gotten into a small tiff with an alpha male who was trying to challenge Brooklyn when she rebuffed his advances. Before it could go to blows, in comes Ava with her all wood baseball bat that is knicked to hell from overuse, and the alpha asshole backs down immediately. Ava put him in a cab and that was that. We’ve been friends ever since.
The pub is just a few doors down from the bar we're currently in so we make good time walking, we flash our bar crawl bracelets—having already paid the fee for these bars today—and head inside.
The place is definitely a shithole—no offense to Ava, of course—with chipped wooden tables, ripped vinyl seats, and cheap glasses and silverware. But it does have killer food and liquor, and it's packed. The last place was already pretty empty by the time we got there since we were about an hour late to start the crawl. This one seems to be where most of the crawlers are. It's wall to wall green in here, with only one or two people wearing what looks like their typical clothing.
Mason spots a free table and grabs both mine and Hudson's hands to drag us over before anyone else can take it. It's a tall, round table with no chairs so we'll have to stand, but at least we have something to lean on. Ava’s place is about two-thousand square feet with an open concept. The back two walls house booths for sit down food, which are currently overflowing with people. Some sitting on laps and sipping cocktails. There’s a small makeshift dance floor in front of them—for this crawl presumably—that usually has tables in its place. Ava did keep some of the tall, round tables in place, like the one we commandeered, and then the bar runs the length of the whole wall to the left of the door when you walk in.
"I'll go get us the first round," I yell over the music and turn toward the bar top. It's crowded, but most of the people around the bar are talking and enjoying the music, not ordering, so I manage to step right up, and I raise my hand to flag down the bartender.
Her back is to me right now, so I have a direct view of her delectable figure. She's got a perfect hourglass shape with the best ass I've ever seen on a woman. The perfect size and so round I want to sink my teeth into it. Her brunette hair cascades down her back in soft curls.
The omega beauty finally turns my way when I call out to get her attention and sees my raised hand. A breeze blows in from the open door behind her, and her scent of honey and nutmeg reaches me just as her eyes lock with mine.
Mate.
Holy shit. Holy. Shit. I've found her. My fated mate.
I fuckingfound her.I don't believe it.
My alpha hounds me incessantly.Mine. Mate. Claim.
She's sauntering over to me, hips swaying enticingly, making my mouth water with her sweet omega scent, and my pulse picks up. My heart is beating so fast I'm sure everyone within a five foot radius can hear it.
Seconds feel like hours as I wait impatiently for her to recognize she's my mate, too. Except she doesn't. She stops right in front of me, and there's nothing. No recognition in her eyes beyond a flash of interest. But it's there and gone in a second like she finds me attractive but doesn't want to act on it.
My alpha keens in my chest, taking her dismissal as rejection. Hurt flashes through me before I push it back, leaving only confusion behind. Why can't she feel what I feel? Or does she feel it and is simply ignoring it? I didn't think that was possible. You can't just ignore the bond to your destined mate.
My mate is speaking to me, asking me something, but I'm only listening on a superficial level. I think she's asking for my drink order, so I mumble some nonsense and go back to watching her intently. She doesn't look like she's in pain. She'd be feeling discomfort at least to some degree if she felt the bond and ignored it. Her omega would demand she acknowledge it.
She's back in front of me, handing me three green colored beers, and I shake myself out of my thoughts. The deafening sounds of the bar filter back in, and I actuallyhearher voice for the first time. It's sweet and lyrical and fits her perfectly.
Goddess, she's beautiful. So much so it's painful to look at her. But she's looking at me now, and she looks just as confused as I feel. Only I imagine she's feeling confused because some weirdo is leering at her, and I'm confused because my mate can't tell she's my mate.
Never in a million years would I have imagined myself in this situation. I had two seconds of being deliriously happy before my heart was torn out of my chest. I grab the three drinks and walk away before I do something stupid like grab my omega and lock her up in our home until she realizes she's mine.
I'm still hard from her scent by the time I get to the table, completely pent up with a combination of sexual desire, frustration, and hurt, so I set the drinks down on the circular table before I grab Mason's face in both my hands and slam my lips to his.
His eyes flare with surprise, and then he's kissing me back. I pull away first, and Mason grins at me. "What was that for?" Mirth rich in his tone.
"I found her," I croak. "I found my mate."
Hudson and Mason's jaws both drop at my pained words.
"What do you mean you found her?" Hudson demands. "Why do you look like you just got nut punched?"
"I don't know... I could tell right away she was mine. My alpha basically wanted to mount her right behind the bar in front of everyone, but she..." I pause trying to articulate what just happened. "I don't know guys, it's like she can't even tell."
