GROOMED FOR THE OMEGA

My hands shake as I pack up my things from my.

I can feel eyes on me, but every time I look up, nobody's glancing my way. I swallow and keep my head down. I'm sure everyone's gossiping about why I've quit, but I won't share. Not because I think the jerk who harassed me deserves to have his behavior swept under the rug, but because I don't want any more trouble. HR wasn't on my side, so I don't know that anyone else would be either.

Once my box with my meager belongings is packed, I head out the door. There are a few confused glances as I leave, and a couple of people stare openly. I ignore all of them.

I can't afford to leave this job. I desperately need the money. But I also need my sanity and my safety, and neither of those is guaranteed here anymore. I'll just have to find something new. It's not like I was saving lives or anything. I was answering customer service calls for a local delivery truck company. I can find another job like that easily.

the door. I tuck my hair behind my ears-great, my hair clip fell out at some point and now I have no idea where it is-and try to project confidence and maybe a bit of a 'fuck you' attitude as I walk out.

These people don't deserve to know that I'm upset. I don't want any of them thinking that I'm leaving with my tail between my legs. I'm leaving in protest, and I'm going to find a better job, one that actually pays me enough to make rent and has a human relationships department that takes care of it's employees.

I get on the bus and head home. I have my car, which is a beat-up old Corolla, but it's seen me through a lot of tough times, but I try to use public transport as much as I can to save money on gas. It means that it takes me twice as long to get to or from work sometimes, but when I'm struggling to buy groceries, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I'm a little worried about my car, actually. It feels like it's barely starting these days.

I really hope the old girl doesn't crap out on me. I need my car.

The universe loves to laugh at me, though, so as I get to my apartment and I juggle the box in one hand and my keys in the other, who should grab the door for me, but none other than my landlord, Jerry.

"Hi, Jerry, thank you!" I put a smile on my face and pray internally that he won't mention the rent.

"You're welcome." Jerry smiles. "I don't suppose you've got an envelope of cash with my name on it in that box, do you?"

He mentioned the rent. I don't know why I hoped for anything else.

"Not today, no." I try to keep my tone light even as my heart rate skyrockets. Jerry's been after me with rent for a couple of weeks now and I know that he has a point, I am late on my payments, but I also just want him to leave me alone and let me figure out what I'm going to do now that I don't have any income.

Jerry frowns. "It's past due, Lily. You know I like you, you're a nice girl, but I've gotta put food on the table, same as everyone else."

"Of course, Jerry, I know."

"And I can't do that when you're late on rent. Again. How many times do we have to do this?"

"There's always something. Look, I can stop by later if..."

"Now's really not a good time."

"Well, when will it be a good time?"

I juggle my box and my purse as I try to head up the stairs. "Maybe on a day when I haven't just lost my job?" I say desperately, annoyed and not thinking.

The moment the words slip out, I want to bang my head against the wall.

Jerry's eyebrows shoot up. "Did you just say you lost your job?"

"I... yeah." I don't know what else to say. I definitely don't want my landlord knowing the whole sordid story.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Then how did you lose it?"

"I wasn't fired," I insist, as if the distinction will matter to him. "I quit!"

"Oh my god," Jerry mutters.

I want the floor to swallow me up whole. "Look, it was a bad work environment, but it's not like I was doing open heart surgery. I'll get another job in a few days and get you the money. You don't have to worry about a thing, Jerry, I promise."

Jerry doesn't look all that convinced. "That's what you say every time, and every time, you're late on the rent."

"But I get it to you!" I point out, trying to be cheerful, then I dash up the stairs before he can say anything more.

I get up the three flights of narrow, rundown stairs to my tiny apartment, unlock the door, and get inside, sagging against the wall.

What a day.

It's tempting to just sit here, maybe even cry a little, but I force myself to get up. There's no use crying. Everything is going to be fine. I take deep breaths and lug the box into the apartment properly so I can unpack, wincing as I take in my run-down, tiny apartment.

This really isn't a place worth pestering your tenants about rent over. It's the size of a shoebox, there's a leaky faucet, no air conditioning or heating, the floor is technically hardwood but only because it's worn-down to bits, there's plaster flaking off everywhere, and there are stains in the bathroom and kitchen that no amount of scrubbing and bleach can fix.

It's beat up to hell, which is about how I feel right now, honestly. But it's not like I can afford anywhere better right now. Especially now that I'm unemployed.

"Just wanted to remind you about the game tonight!" Shay sounds pumped up already, and oh my god, that's right-I agreed to join her at a hockey game. She had the extra ticket because she dumped the boyfriend she was originally going with. But I could really use a night out after how the day's gone.

"Yup, I'll be there!"

"We'll be meeting Maddie and the others there too. Don't forget to bring something warm!"

"I won't. Meet you then!"

Crap, now I have to get ready.

I heat up some beans and rice that I had leftover in the fridge and eat it while reading the new romance novel I got last weekend. Romance novels are the one thing I let myself splurge on, and I try to be careful about how many I buy. If I had the money, I'd buy every romance novel I could get my hands on, but unfortunately, I'm not that rich.

In the meantime, I eat my beans and rice and immerse myself in the fictional world between the pages. I love cooking and I try to get creative with my food when I can so that I don't get bored, but I end up eating the same things pretty much every day because they're cheap.

Someday, I tell myself. Someday I'll be able to actually do what I want. I'll be able to go to college, and experiment with food and cook delicious meals, and I'll have a proper library for all my romance novels so they're not in piles on the floor.

My alarm goes off, and I throw the dishes into the sink and run around getting ready.

I find a couple and put them in to hold my dark red hair back. I don't know how I keep losing them, and yet I somehow manage to do it all the time.

I get ready just in time and hop into my car to drive to the hockey rink to meet everyone. I'm sure everybody else went out beforehand to eat, or will want to get drinks afterward, but I just can't afford it. My Corolla splutters to life, and I wince as I pull her out of the parking space and head downtown.

"Just hold on a little longer, baby," I tell her, patting her dashboard. The last thing I need is my car breaking down on me.

We putter and cough our way to the arena, where I park farther away so I can use free street parking rather than paying through the nose for the arena lots.

I've never been to a hockey game before. When I reach Shay, Maddie, and the others, some of them are wearing jerseys. Shay's bouncing up and down on her heels with a huge grin on her face. "You're just in time! Come on!"

Maddie buys a bunch of snacks that she ends up sharing with everyone, which is nice because I don't have to be the one person who claims she doesn't want anything to cover up the fact that I can't afford to splurge. The ice rink arena is cold, but actually not quite as cold as I expected. Maybe it's because there are so many people here, all that body heat warms the place up.

We take our seats, and the skaters come out to blaring music and spotlights. It's a whole production, and I grin as the crowd gets pumped up on both sides. It's a home game, so it's mostly people in support of our home team, the Titans. I watch the players as they skate, trying to match the athletic figures with the faces they're showing on the jumbotron screens.

Wow. Some of these guys are really handsome.

The first one out is the captain, Cruz Ashford. He's got chocolate brown hair and blazing blue eyes, and he sweeps his gaze over the crowd and then the ice as he skates across the smooth surface with steady, even strokes of his legs. I don't know if I've ever seen such a confident looking man in my life.

A few others come out, and another player catches my eye, apparently named Lawson Hunt. The player's name flashes on the screen whenever that player emerges onto the ice. Lawson has dark blond hair and these mischievous brown eyes that complement each other, and a square jawline that gives a rugged edge to his handsomeness.

The last two out are a defenseman, Miles Eastwood, with the goalie Knox Monroe. Miles has black hair that seems to have hints of red when the lighting's right, but that could just be my imagination, and his eyes are a true hazel. He gives the crowd a small, crooked smile, but then seems to focus on the goalie, who is-

Holy shit, he's huge.

All the players are tall. Most of them look like they're at least six feet. But this goalie is taller than all of them, and even though it could just be his extra padding for his job on the team, he looks broader than the others too. He's got a beard that's the same rich dark brown as his hair, which is shaggy. His eyes when he looks up into the camera are gunmetal gray, but he scowls at the crowd and then skates into position.

I guess the guy's having a bad day. I hope that doesn't reflect in how he plays. Shay gets riled up when her team loses.

I shouldn't have worried. The moment the game starts, the players are in motion, and the four handsome ones that I noticed are the stars of the show. Not a single shot gets past the goalie, and the other three players are lightning fast, passing the puck back and forth like they're reading each other's minds.

By the time that the first intermission hits, I'm as into it as the others. It's a lot of fun and exhilarating to watch everyone skate on the ice. It's different from watching players in other sports running. Something about being on skates, and the ice, and how different it is, it just thrills me.

I'm up on my feet cheering with Shay and the others, and when we win, we jump up and down and Shay wraps her arms around my neck to scream in my ear.

Yeah, I'm really glad I came to this. I needed this.

Afterwards, everyone pours out of the arena, and the others start talking about going out for drinks. I wince. I'm glad that Maddie gave me some of her nachos and half of her pretzel. That was some delicious junk food, and it's kept my stomach from growling, but now I really need to get home. I have to start job hunting tomorrow and I can't afford to go out and buy expensive cocktails anyway.

"You coming, Lily?" Shay asks. She tugs playfully on my hair. "You lost a hair clip again."

My hands fly up to my head. Damn it, this just keeps happening. "I don't know how that happens."

Everyone laughs, but not unkindly. "You can meet us there," Maddie says. "Maybe you've got an extra in your car? I'll text you the address."

"No, no, I had a really long day and I need to be up early in the morning. You guys go on and have fun, okay? I'll see you soon." I hug Shay. "Thanks for the ticket. This was a really fun night."

If anyone suspects I have another reason for bowing out, they don't say anything, and everyone hugs me and then heads out of the arena doors.

I take a second to sit down on a bench, my stomach twisting. I don't like lying to my friends. The thing is, I think if I told them I couldn't afford it, one of them would've paid for my drinks. They're good people that way.

I just couldn't handle them knowing. They'd ask questions, and worry about me, and I can't do that. Maybe it's that I've been on my own for so long, or that if I have to tell my friends it makes my financial situation real, but the idea of them knowing about my late rent payments and my job loss just makes me want to throw up.

I wipe at my eyes and stand up, looking around. The arena's pretty much emptied out. There are a few people talking to each other, and there's a gaggle of girls in various tight, short outfits, some of them in jerseys they bought with the player names blazed on the back, giggling and apparently waiting for something.

Well, there's no point in me hanging around. I need to get home and then pile the blankets up on my bed, since it'll be freezing in my apartment.

I get outside and walk around the arena toward the back entrances. That's over by where I parked, a few streets down from the employee parking lot. I keep my head down, my shoulders hunched, and shiver in spite of the heavy jacket I brought. I know it's not really the cold. It's the fear.

I hate not knowing what's going to happen next, and I hate the increasing feeling that I'm drowning and can't get my head above water.

My thoughts are interrupted as I bump into someone, hard.

"Oh shit!" I squeak.

I nearly fall over, reeling from the impact. It feels like I hit a massive wall of muscle, and as I blink and look up, I realize that's exactly what happened.

The ruggedly handsome captain of the hockey team stares down at me. At this distance, his blue eyes are even more intense, and I can get a close-up look at his bulging biceps and powerful forearms, his strong, athletic build with his broad shoulders and trim waistline.

He's also got what look like tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt and the bottom of his sleeves, stuff his padding and uniform covered up.

I swallow hard. I don't think I've ever been in the presence of someone this goddamn handsome before, and I feel like I'm back to being a freshman in high school crushing on the senior boys. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

The guy-Cruz Ashford, if I remember his name correctly-stares at me, squinting his eyes a little like he can see right through me if he tries hard enough. I catch a whiff of his scent. Roasted coffee beans, sweet coconut, and... the last one's a bit hard to identify... buttercream.

Oh, god, it smells really fucking good. He smells really good. Like some kind of decadent cake at a fancy bakery, the kind you have a slice of at a wedding and then dream about for the rest of your life.

I may be a Beta, so scents don't affect me as strongly as if I were an Omega, but oh my god, I want to bury my nose in him and inhale for days.

I swallow again and blink hard. I do not get gaga over a guy's scent like this, especially not some stranger I've just bumped into. I hope nothing of what I was just thinking shows on my face, or I'll look like a lunatic.

"Right. You weren't looking where you were going." Cruz arches an eyebrow to show how little he believes that statement. "You wouldn't be the first puck bunny who tried to craft her own meet cute, you know. If you want an autograph, you can wait in the lobby like everyone else."

"What are you talking about?" My temper flares a bit at his tone. "I'm not a puck bunny. I've never even been to a hockey game before tonight. If I'd known that the players were the kind of guys who assumed every woman alive was desperate to sleep with them, I would've just stayed home with a book instead of letting my friends drag me here."

Cruz blinks, then looks like he's trying hard not to laugh. "Definitely not a bunny. You've got claws."

I fold my arms. "And you've got to be kidding me."

Cruz actually grins at me, and my stomach does an inconvenient flip. "Hey now, sunshine, no need to keep taking swipes at me."

"Sunshine?"

"Well, clearly, given the attitude." The man actually winks at me.

He's lucky his handsome. And charming. "I have to go. Excuse me."