The three of them follow my father to a standing table away from us, where there are fewer people, and I watch in frozen horror as Dad plants himself opposite them with his hands clasped behind his back. Brody stands relaxed but attentive. Corey appears as if he’s trying very hard not to enjoy himself. Jakob is still enough to make the whole exchange feel suddenly formal.
“So. What are your intentions with my daughter?” My father’s words carry faintly to us, and I want to die.
I grab my mother’s champagne and take a large sip.
“Claire,” Mom snaps.
“I need this more than you do.”
With so many people around us, and the guys talking away from me, I can barely make out their answers. I’m shaking my head that my dad’s doing this now instead of just being happy that I’m not a sad, lonely Omega at the wedding.
I take another sip of champagne while my mother drifts away, already targeting a man carrying a tray of drinks. Across the room, my father hasn’t stopped grilling the three Alphas gathered at a standing table.
I can’t hear a single word now over the music and the swell of voices filling the reception hall, which somehow makes it worse. What could they possibly be discussing for this long? None of the three men had exactly come prepared with a shared story about how they met me, how long we’d been together, or why my father’s socially anxious daughter had suddenly arrived at a family wedding with a pack.
This could turn into a disaster. A proper, family-legend-level disaster.
When I glance over at Ivy, she’s watching me instead of the men, one eyebrow raised like she’s been waiting for me to rejoin the conversation.
“Did you hear me?” she asks.
I blink at her. “Huh?”
Her mouth curves, but there’s a softness beneath the amusement that makes me more uncomfortable than the teasing. I’ve always been the sister who disappears before anyone can ask too many questions, while she jumps right in. We’ve been trying to fix our relationship. We send birthday texts, compliment each other’s hair, and stand beside each other in family photos and pretend the distance between us isn’t there.
“I asked how in the world you met those men,” she says, lowering her voice as her gaze slides back toward the standing table. “Especially since one of them is Brody from ManBaker. Holy shit, Claire, how did you score him?”
I shift my glass from one hand to the other. “You watch him?”
“Hello, Earth to Claire. Everyone does.”
We both stare at Dad, who’s now pointing at each of the guys, and I’m mortified that he’s lecturing them or something.
“You’ve been hiding since the whole TV debacle,” Ivy says out of the blue, not cruelly, which somehow makes it harder. “Mom and Dad have been worried sick about you. Dad pretends he isn’t, but he is, and Mom was one bad week away from staging an intervention and getting you on a dating app.”
My stomach drops. “Oh God. I would have died.”
“That’s why I talked her out of it.” Ivy gives a tiny shrug. “You’re welcome.”
Despite myself, a laugh slips out. “Thanks for saving me from parental matchmaking.”
“It wasn’t easy. Mom feels she has to tell everyone her Omega daughter is alone.” Her smile fades a little as she looks at me again. “But you need to come by sometimes, Claire. Not just appear at a wedding with a new pack like you’re unveiling a lifestyle change. Pop over and let her know how amazing your life is so she understands.”
Guilt presses beneath my ribs. “It’s just been a bit hard, and then this wedding, a last-minute thing.”
Ivy studies me. “Why? They sent the invitation out months ago. Is it because they aren’t really your pack?”
The question crashes too close to the truth.
Ivy’s eyes flick toward Brody, who’s listening to my father with his head slightly tilted, one hand in his pocket, looking unfairly calm and gorgeous beneath the fairy lights. “I mean, Brody? Every girl out there wants him. Even the married ones.” Her eyebrows waggle once, more sisterly than mean. “So it’s a little hard to believe you just snatched him and his two equally gorgeous friends out of nowhere when no one had a clue you were dating anyone.”
Heat climbs into my face, but this time it isn’t only embarrassment. This date is fake, the whole night held together with panic and lies and three men being far kinder than theyneed to be, but I hate hearing my sister say it as if I’m not the sort of woman men like that could want.
“Well, for your information,” I say, lifting my chin, “we are real.”
Ivy’s eyebrows rise.
“And Brody kisses heavenly,” I add before I can stop myself, which is apparently the point where my survival instincts leave the building entirely.