Sugar Coated

8

Delaney Linwood

My phone vibrated as soon as I locked the screen after sending the message to Jackson Sinclair's number. I didn't even have time to stash the creased business card back in my pocket before the notification came through.

Jackson Sinclair added Emil West to the group.

My phone vibrated again as the next notification scrolled across my screen.

Jackson Sinclair added Andres Ibarra to the group.

I tapped the screen, unsure of how I was even supposed to respond. I hadn't even gotten words back from my message regarding the price of the wire I was picking up for the jukebox.

Emil West changed nickname to 'Em'.

Em changed chat theme to 'Peach Ombre'.

"What the hell is going on," I whispered the words as I stared down at my phone, the 50 feet of corded wire hanging in my hand on my hip, nearly forgotten.

Em changed chat emoji to 'Lollipop'.

Rosie glanced over my shoulder to lurk on the conversation on my screen, "What's got you buzzing, busy Bee?"

"You could have stuck with 'babydoll' and it would have been fine, Rosie," I quipped as I flashed her my phone screen. It vibrated again in my hand and I turned it quickly to see what new update I'd been sent.

Em: Glad you could find the wire! Now there's nothing stopping you from coming back <devil emoji> Should we expect you around 8?

"Is that their omega?" Rosie had pivoted with me, keeping my phone screen in her line of sight when I turned it like it was the sun and she a particularly nosey sunflower.

My thumbs stuttered over my response. It had only been one day and I didn't know if I were quite ready to throw myself in the middle of their dynamic again, no matter how desperately I wanted to.

It gave him enough time to send another message.

Em: This time I expect you to stay for dinner, or at the VERY least ice cream. It's not like I haven't been begging for the last three months <pleading face emoji>.

"Ohp, that is most definitely their omega," Rosie's laughter blew tendrils of my hair across my temple, "and he's well past taking no for an answer."

I typed out the first syllable of 'sorry' before Rosie's snort stopped me short, "You're about to send their omega into a massive tantrum, Bee."

"Rosie, I love you dearly and I mean this in the kindest way, but get off my dick."

I drafted the polite response to save my pussy the heartache. Sorry, not tonight. I have plans, though I think I might be free sometime in the early afternoon to come in and fix the power cord, maybe around 4? It was one of their rush hours when I knew I'd be free to slip in and slip back out without too much pack interference since they'd mostly be manning the parlor.

"Sweet Bee, I am nowhere near your dick right now, but if we're on the subject of dicks that are interested," Rosie stepped into my line of vision comically wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ok, I'll bite."

"Yesssssss," the word was a hiss accompanied by a little hop that I was certain would snap the heels that Rosie was wearing, but alas the structural integrity of her stilettos lived to see another day.

"Not the way you want me to, Rosie."

"Nooooooo," that one she made sound like a lonesome howl.