Chapter 8: Press Start Arcade and Bar

If Sean’s going to keep running into Beth at this bar, he’s going to need to find another bar. Because this isn’t working out for him. Not with her smelling like that.

His semi-annual rut is upon him, which means a whole slew of uncomfortable encounters and emotions, followed by an entire twenty-four hours of wishing he had an Omega to serve, and almost invariably not having one. It would be much shorter if he had an Omega— sometimes as short as an hour, or so he’s heard— but the few times he tried, things got sticky and complicated. Not at all in line with his plan.

Ah. Yes. His plan. Which pretty much dissolved before his eyes as soon as he started seeing Beth on the regular. It’s his own fault; he initiated the friends-with-benefits arrangement. He made his own bed, and now he’s laying in it.

Beth looks downright edible, tonight. Short grey skirt that bares her long, creamy legs, white blouse opened to bare a good portion of her chest, a loosened green tie, and her red hair down. He’d love to pull her into a corner, cover them both up with his long trench coat, and mark his territory, over and over again.

Except she’s not his territory— she’s an Omega he’s hooked up with a few times. His best bet is to look his fill, and keep his hands to himself, all things considered. She probably has enough to deal with, now that her suppressants have dropped.

Like the slightly gross Alpha currently trying to butter her up, for instance.

Sean feels the surge of anger and responds to it by drinking half his beer in one take. The creep isn’t even attractive— there’s something wrong with his teeth, and his eyes keep roaming where they shouldn’t. He’s a wiry beanpole with a black Snapback, a tee shirt, sweatpants that are uncomfortably loose on him. Sean feels the muscles in his back tense up one by one, like a giant cat preparing to strike—

“Yo.”

Sean’s eyes slide to the man beside him, a dark-skinned, handsome Beta, in clothing that can barely be described as decent. Then his gaze slides immediately back to Beth, and her creep. “Hey, Ren.”

“Yo.” Ren’s tone is more insistent. “The new guy’s gettin’ cozy with your girl. What’s up?”

Sean takes another pull from his beer, hoping to cool down a little, maybe ward off his rut a little longer. “None of my business.”

“None of your—“ Ren scowls at him, jerking his thumb pointedly at Beth. “That’s your chick! What d’you mean, none of your business?” Sean shrugs. “Hey, you need me to throw hands with that—” Ren drops a word Sean would never use in good company, and Sean’s eyebrow arches up.

“I think I’ll survive if you don’t, but thanks.” It sounds chivalrous of him, but he doesn’t say it to protect the other Alpha. He says it because he wants to be the one rip into the creep himself.

Ren snorts. “Suit yourself.” Within seconds, Ren gets swept away by an even larger man, probably off to make himself some money for the night.

Sean tries valiantly to keep his eyes on any of the TVs in the bar, all sporting various games played by the patrons. He even tries turning his head, but there are too many people between him and any of the old fashioned, arcade-style consoles nearby, and his eyes inevitably move back to Beth, a few seats down the bar from him.

(Mark your territory, something screams inside him.)

Calm. He has to stay calm. He cannot go into rut here.

The tiny, buxom bartender sidles up to him, all blonde hair and sharp smile. “Hey, big guy. You look tense.”

“Hitting on me, Jenn?” He asks, flashing his teeth. “You know I’m not into Alphas.”

“Hmm. No.” She flicks her eyes to Beth and the creep. “But you don’t smell too pleased. I figured you could use a distraction.”

Sean takes another long pull from his drink. He’s damn near done with it already, but in place of the usual buzz, he can only feel his anger mounting. “Tell me about the guy sizing up my Omega.” There’s a hint of Alpha push to his words, and Jenn’s grin shifts into something feline.

“He’s only been here a few times,” she tells him, unaffected by the subtle command. “Pretty gross for an Alpha. Hangs around Beth anytime she comes here. She reported him at work awhile back, and got him fired.”

A ringing starts up in Sean’s ears. “Any way to scare him off?”

“Not sure.” Jenn leans in, putting her lips near his ear. “Her scent is stronger today. I think she changed suppressants recently. It probably drew him in.”

Things might get weird, Beth said, last time they texted.

Sean nearly sees red, and puts his hand on Jenn’s waist to center himself. Anyone watching them would think she was propositioning him. “She mentioned the suppressants to me.” And the thought of her going into heat had made him so hard so fast, he’d gotten a nose bleed, like a teenager. “Do you think he’s a significant threat?”

“He’ll probably slip something into her drink the second she looks away,” Jenn says evenly. “I can switch their drinks when he’s not looking.”

It’s tempting. Extremely tempting. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Jenn hums, and strokes his arm in a way that looks flirtatious to the outside eye, but mainly serves to ground him a little. “Try not to shed blood, stud.” Before she leaves, she slips something beside his glass— a key. “In case things get too… heated, with your Omega.”

Sean nods and pockets the key. Jenn and Tara, the owners— both Alpha women— had the forethought to hide a room away in the back. Mostly they used it to keep it together and work during their own ruts, but they’d been known to shepherd drunk, grabby Alphas into it until the bouncers or the cops came, or hide an Omega patron going into heat, until they could get them to safety.

He lifts his glass and tips it in silent toast to Jenn, then downs what little is left, before sauntering over to Beth and the Alpha oozing his god awful scent all over her. Except, when he reaches them, he can only smell her. Worse than ever. It has the same effect it always does— he’s almost embarrassingly hard, glad for the black trench-coat he can use to hide his lower half.

He’s on a dangerous edge. If only he had more beer in front of him to diffuse her scent. She has her back to him, angled slightly away from the guy trying to talk to her. What little he can see of her face has a cross between disgust and exhaustion on it.

“Hey, Beth.”

The other Alpha turns to him and narrows his eyes. It’s a clear, instant challenge. Sean ignores him.

Beth, however, turns— and it’s then that he notices the panic on her face, the slight tremor to her hands. Her smile is just shy of wild, when she realizes who he is. “Sean!” She’s in his arms instantly, nuzzling her face into his chest and inhaling. He swallows, a wave of her scent hitting him as he hugs her back. “It’s good to see you. How are you?”

What a difficult question, Sean thinks, both soothed by her scent and amped further up by it. Wild, all of this. “I’m good.” His eyes flick to the Alpha glaring at him behind her head. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been looking for a Mario Kart partner.”

She laughs, taking his hand, but the sound is empty and a little hysterical. “What, so you can hand me my ass again?” She leaves her drink behind and starts to lead him away, through the crowd, past the many loud arcade games. Sean’s thoughts barrel toward inappropriate, imagining dragging her out of here, taking her home with him. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been practicing, and I can confidently say I’m just as terrible as you remember. Probably worse.”

He chuckles, letting her guide him away.