me to get some space from my family, to take care of myself and become the adult I was meant to be. And yet, the idea of telling my parents that I wanted to leave, telling my Alphas, going through all the steps of packing up and leaving while my family pressured me to stay—it all just felt so impossible. A mountain I couldn’t begin to climb.
Surely, grown humans didn’t go through all this uncertainty and turmoil when they moved out of their parents’ homes. I turned the leather-bound copy of The Princess Bride over in my hands. Maybe I just needed to ask myself WWIMD—What Would Inigo Montoya Do?
He’d probably kick down the door to the apartment, sign the lease, and tell his neighbors that they should prepare to die if they mess with his recycling bins. Okay, probably not, but he would at least be able to tell his parents he was moving out without dithering on about it like a character in a Fitzgerald novel.
Dick carried a box of coffee grounds into the café area and noticed the frown on my face. “What’s up, Buttercup?”
“Buttercup? Is that my new nickname, or are you just going for low-hanging fruit that rhymes?”
“Well, you’ve picked up that book every time you’ve come in here,” he noted.
“That has more to do with me being a cheapskate,” I muttered, holding up the book.
“You all right?” he asked. “You seem a little off tonight.”
“I just have a financial decision to make. And some personal decisions. And it feels like they’re getting all jumbled up in a big yarn ball of confusion and I’m not sure I like it.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re supposed to like confusing emotional yarn balls,” he said, sitting across the table from me. “But if you’re feeling all of this over a decision, it’s pretty obvious that it’s an important decision. And over my epic and storied lifetime—”
I snickered.
He wagged his finger at me. “No laughing. No one likes a smart ass. Over my epic and storied lifetime, I’ve found that when an important decision comes up, I usually know what I want to do. The dawdling and indecision usually comes from knowing that what I want to do is going to be pretty difficult. You know what’s right for you, hon. You just have to find the courage to do it.”
“That was incredibly thoughtful and helpful advice, Dick.”
“Why is everybody so surprised when I am helpful and thoughtful?” he asked.
I glanced pointedly at his t-shirt, which read, “Ninety-nine percent bad decisions, one percent redeeming snark.”
“What’s your point?” he asked just as Jane emerged from her office.
“Ty, how’s the promotional-stuff-that-I-do-not-have-to-worry-about-and-therefore-I-will-be-happy-no-matter-what-the-results-are coming along?” she asked.
“Really well, you had a seventy percent open rate on your last email about the book club meeting. That’s almost unheard of,” I said. “I can prepare a report for you, if you’d like.”
“Nah, I trust you. As long as I don’t have to do it, I’m happy,” Jane assured me. “So, I hear you had an interesting evening with Alex the other night.”
“Alex told you about the sex?” I gasped. “Or wait, did you see it in my head? What is going on?”
Jane’s jaw dropped. “I was talking about that date you abandoned at Southern Comfort. Tess said the awkwardness was so thick, you could see it spread all over the table like mayonnaise. And then after you left, the guy invited some other girl to the table.”
“Oh.” I shuddered. “Also, that mayonnaise thing is gross.”
“But you had sex with Alex, that’s…interesting!” She gave me the world’s most uncomfortable thumbs up.
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you two,” I moaned, covering my face with my hands.
“Um, I’m back here, too,” Gabriel called from the office. “Congratulations, I think.”
“I’m not happy with it,” Dick said, shaking his head. “I mean, really, Buttercup, a French guy? I thought we raised you better than that!”
“You didn’t raise me, Dick.”
“Well, we have a deep personal emotional investment in you, so it feels like we did,” he scoffed.
“I’ve known you for like, a month,” I reminded him.
“Alex is a perfectly nice man,” Jane reminded him. “And he treats Tylene with respect and affection, and that’s all we can ask. Besides, he’s a good friend of Cal and Nik. They wouldn’t be friends with someone who wasn’t boyfriend material.”
Dick grumbled as he walked towards Jane’s office. “Excuse me, I’m going to go learn the shovel speech in French.”
“Well, that was unexpected,” I said.
“I know it seems a little infantilizing,