Portville Summer Series: The Complete Collection Books 1-4: (MM Nonshifter Omegaverse)

by Xander Collins

  “Brent! Enough! We won’t have this discussion again. I need you to shape up and greet the guests tonight. I don’t ask you for much. I know you have no intention of getting into politics and making a name for yourself in Portville, but the least you could do is help me out a little. Make sure the guests are happy and taken care of tonight. Smile and greet people. Maybe even take around a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Make yourself useful.”

  “Great, now you want me to be your waiter.”

  “Brent,” he said with a clenched jaw as he stared into the full length mirror in front of him. His face was turning beet red and I was pretty sure he had totally stopped breathing. He looked like he was about to have a coronary, as usual. “Just do as I ask. For once, don’t make me argue with you.”

  “Make you? Yeah, right. Dad I’m twenty-three and you still treat me like a kid.”

  My dad turned around abruptly and glared at me. “Well, then act your goddamned age! Stop screwing around, and make something of yourself! One of these days you’re going to have to move out of the governor’s mansion—a place you’ve been damned lucky enough to call home for the last four years, by the way—and you’re going to have to make your own way. You can’t live off of your father forever, you know. Or off one of those alphas you meet at the clubs you go to. So help me god, Brent, if you get pregnant on one of your nights of carousing—“

  “I won’t get pregnant, Dad—“

  “And wind up on the cover of The Oregonian—“

  “That’s not gonna happen, Dad!”

  “I’ll cut you off so fast it’ll make your head spin!”

  “Dad! Jesus Christ! Fine, I’ll go hand out food to your special guests! I’ll be your waiter, or your indentured servant, or whatever! You’re the boss around here, I’m fully aware of that fact! Just stop yelling at me!”

  “And will you put on a tie, for crissake!”

  Those were the last words I heard as I stomped off and slammed the door. I was so tired of being treated like a second class citizen by my own father. I had always come second to my older brother Bradly. He was an alpha and he had graduated from Portville State with a law degree and was working his way up in politics when he had his ski accident.

  That was four years ago.

  I had just graduated from high school and I’d always looked up to him. I was devastated when my dad gave me the news. And of course my dad, being an alpha himself and never showing any emotions, gave me hell for crying. He said one day of mourning was plenty, that I was taking it too far crying for a week, and in front of people, no less. I mean, it was at the funeral. It’s not like I was making a scene wailing in the middle of the town square. So I basically had to suck it up and hide my feelings.

  Now that Bradly was gone he had become my dad’s fallen hero, and I was the screw-up he was stuck with. My dad always made it clear that he was disappointed I had no interest in politics, and always criticized my ‘lack of direction,’ whenever I talked about taking classes. He knew how much I hated these fundraisers, but he still made me attend. It’s like he got off on torturing me or something.

  I put on a tie and went out to greet the damned guests. I put on my most fake smile and spoke in my most disgustingly cheerful voice for at least an hour before I couldn’t take it anymore. When I saw that my dad was distracted and deep in a conversation—about something boring and stupid, I was sure—I grabbed a fifth of Johnnie Walker Blue and found a quiet spot at the back of the top deck.

  I’d only planned on drinking, like, a quarter of the bottle, but things got a little out of hand, and before I knew it, half of it was gone. I knew I’d be totally screwed if my dad saw me like this, so I snuck off the boat and wandered down the pier a little ways. I brought the bottle with me, but I really wasn’t interested in getting alcohol poisoning and having to get my stomach pumped in the ER, which I was embarrassed to admit had happened a couple times in the last year. So I walked over to the railing and tossed the bottle into the river.

  The reflection of the lights from the nearby boats on the water looked so amazing, so I got up on the first rung of the barrier so I could see better. I knew I was being kind of stupid standing on a narrow bar when I was this tipsy, but it was fun. I’d even slipped a little getting up, because the pier was wet and I had dress shoes on. But I managed to steady myself, so I was feeling pretty secure in my ability to stay balanced on the railing.

  I teetered back and forth a little, then decided to get up on the top rung. I got both of my feet up onto the railing, which had a flat surface and felt pretty secure, then I slowly let go and stood up. When I was standing completely straight I spread my arms out wide and laughed. It felt amazing to be standing above the water with the stars and lights reflecting in the ripples and waves, and to feel the wind caressing my skin.

  I kept my arms spread out and I closed my eyes like I was Kate Winslet on The Titanic. I knew I was being totally irresponsible, and that I could have easily fallen over, but I didn’t care. It felt good. I felt amazing, actually. Like I was free and that nothing, not even my dad, could bring me down.

  In that moment, I imagined I was back on the yacht and that my dad could see me. I knew all his guests would be gasping and freaking out, and I was sure he would have a thing or two to say as well. But it wouldn’t matter, because nothing he did could affect me when I was flying and the sea air was spraying in my face.

  I laughed at the thought of my dad and a bunch of hoity-toity rich people freaking out at their stupid party while I ignored them and did my solo Titanic reenactment. I was so into my fantasy that I lost my balance for a second, but I opened my eyes and caught myself just before I fell over. Then I felt someone grab my legs and I started to fall again, only this time I couldn’t stop myself.

  “Wait … whoa … oh shit!” I yelled.

  I had absolutely no idea what happened. All I knew was someone had grabbed me and I was falling forward, head first into the freezing water of the Willamina river.

  Chapter 2

  Holden

  “What the hell did you do that for?”

  I had just come up to the surface of the water and was totally disoriented, and the guy I tried to rescue was screaming at me.

  “Dude, seriously! Why did you push me in the water?! Is this some sort of frat prank?!”

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I swam over to him. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine! It was only a fifteen-foot drop! But seriously, what the hell was that all about?”

  “I don’t know, I guess I thought you were about to jump. But then I slipped and wound up pushing both of us in.”

  “Jump? You mean commit suicide?”

  “Yeah,” I said, treading water and trying not to get any in my mouth.

  “Dude, it’s not like we’re on a bridge or anything. The pier is barely one story off the water. If I was gonna kill myself I’d … I’d … well, I don’t know what I’d do, but I would sure as hell pick a better place, that’s fore sure.”

  “Oh,” I said as a small wave got me right in the face. “Well, you were standing right on the top rung of the railing. It looked dangerous.”

  “And it wasn’t dangerous for you to push us both in?”

  I was starting to feel really stupid. “I said it was an accident. I was trying to help.”

  “Help with what?” the guy said in a huffy voice. “Maybe I was going for a swim.”

  “In a suit?”

  He swam over to one of the lower docks that branched out off the main pier and climbed up a ladder. I was right behind him, and when the two of us were up on the wooden platform we looked at each other for a long moment. I was waiting for him to make another cutting remark, but instead he started laughing. As soon as I heard the lilt in his laugh I felt better, and I even started in too.

  “I don’t know if that suit is going to survive your swim in the river,” I said. “Sorry about that.”

  The guy looked at the water dripping off his jacket and shrugged. “
Yeah, well, just another thing for my dad to be pissed off at me about. I never liked it anyway.”

  “So, what’s your name? Mine’s Holden.”

  “I’m Brent.”

  “Nice to meet you, Brent,” I said, extending my hand. Brent hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine, then he smiled and took my hand in his.

  I had a feeling when I saw his slight build when he was standing on the railing that he was an omega, and now that I could see the way his eyes and face lit up when he looked at me, I was almost positive.

  Brent had an amazing smile, and eyes that pretty much took my breath away. I had a hard time looking away, and wound up standing there gazing into his dazzling blue eyes and holding his hand in mine for way too long. But I just couldn’t help it. I was entranced.

  After a long moment, Brent cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

  I finally dropped my hand down, and even though my jeans were soaking wet, I stuck both of my hands in the pockets. We stood there in an awkward silence for another long moment. I wanted to keep talking to him, but my mind was completely blank. All I could think about was how good he probably smelled. But since he was soaking wet I couldn’t get a whiff of his scent at all.

  “So,” a finally managed to get out. “Why were you standing on the railing?”

  Brent shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. It just felt so good standing up there with the wind blowing in my face. Really free, you know what I mean? Like anything could happen.”

  “Yeah, like you could fall and crack your head open maybe?”

  Brent laughed and teetered a bit, and this time his smile wasn’t as bright. “I guess it doesn’t sound quite so good now that I hear myself saying it out loud.” He stuck his hands in his pants pockets and shrugged again. “I mean, thanks, I guess. I suppose you could’ve saved my life, if I had actually been in some kind of danger.”

  There was a long silence, and Brent’s eyes slowly made their way up to mine. I couldn’t help but start to laugh again at how silly this whole thing was, and as soon as I started, he did too. Then there they were, those bright eyes and that sweet smile. I just couldn’t get enough.

  I watched him for another long moment, the way his lips curled up in the corners of his mouth so perfectly, and the way his chin formed the most adorable dimple right in the center. But then I noticed that he was swaying quite a bit, even staggering back-and-forth on the deck a couple times, and suddenly I realized he was drunk.

  “So what are you doing out here on the pier?” I asked. “Were you at some kind of party?”

  “Yeah,” Brent said as he looked out over the river and brushed a hand through his wet hair. “My dad is having a party.” Brent gestured vaguely with his chin towards the boats that were moored along the pier. “Over there.”

  “So you were escaping a boring evening with your dad and his friends?”

  “They aren’t his friends.”

  “Oh, co-workers then?”

  “No, not even that. A bunch of strangers he’s trying to impress.” Brent continued to stare at the river for another few seconds like he was deep in thought, then he turned to me, his face lighting up again. “Hey, let’s go back there. We could sneak another bottle up to my room and dry off there.”

  “Your room? How big is your dad’s boat?”

  “Big. You wanna?”

  There was absolutely no way I could say no to those eyes. Not that I would want to, though. There was something about this omega. Something that made me want to stay right by his side. I didn’t care what we did, I just wanted to be near him. But I didn’t particularly want him to know that.

  I wasn’t a game player at all. If I liked someone I felt like the best policy was to be totally honest. But I’d only known Brent for about fifteen minutes, so I thought it would probably be a good idea to play it cool, at least until I got to know him a little better, or for at least an hour.

  “Sure,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I don’t really have anything to do, anyway.”

  “Cool!”

  I followed Brent up the dock to the pier that ran along the river, and as soon as we were on the main path I walked right next to him. Now that we were moving I could see that he was pretty drunk. He kept bumping into me, and he tripped a couple times. If I hadn’t been there to catch his arm I was sure he would have fallen flat on his face. I wasn’t sure he should keep drinking, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to say anything.

  We’d been walking for about a minute or so, and were headed to the section of the pier where all of the really big, fancy yachts were moored. It wasn’t a stretch of the river I frequented too much with my Treat Boat, but after doing the evening rounds I’d actually docked it not too far away. After I finished up serving snacks to a group who were swimming off a nearby dock I tied up right there and decided to take a little stroll along the pier.

  I wasn’t planning on staying more than a few minutes, but it was such a nice night. The moon was full and the sky was so clear I could see more stars than usual. I was just walking along, trying to forget about my money problems for a while, and before I knew it I’d lost track of time. It was just a coincidence that I’d docked so close to where Brent was standing on the railing. If I hadn’t stopped in that very spot I never would have seen him and tried to help, and we wouldn’t be heading back to his room right now.

  Brent took a quick right down one of the narrow docks that branched off the main pier and I followed behind him. Of course, it was the dock where the biggest, fanciest yacht was moored. I didn’t even have to ask if it was his dad’s. I could hear music and laughter all the way from the pier.

  “Sounds like the party is still raging,” I said as we made our way up onto the empty deck.

  “Yeah, but they’re all inside. If we stick to the back of the living room where the bar is we should be able to slip past everyone and into the kitchen. They’re all so involved in their bullshit political conversations they won’t even notice.”

  “You think no one’s going to notice two soaking wet guys grabbing a bottle of alcohol off the bar?”

  “You don’t know my dad. I’m pretty much invisible to him, unless he needs me to do a job. If it was my brother, my dad would be hanging on his every word. Anyway, if anyone else sees us they won’t say a thing. Not tonight. No one wants to be a downer at one of his parties.”

  The two of us nonchalantly walked through a glass entryway where some sliding doors were wide open. The yacht was huge, so I was expecting it to be pretty impressive, but walking through the doorway was just insane. It was like no boat I’d ever seen in my life. Every surface—from the brass fixtures to the marble floors and countertops—looked brand new, and shined like it had all been recently polished.

  Brent and I were standing in an enormous living room that was wall to wall people. Men in suits and women in long gowns and sparkling diamond jewelry. There were multiple couches and chairs scattered around the large room, enough to seat at least fifteen or twenty people comfortably, and every seat in the room was filled.

  There were also small groups of people in every corner of the room, talking and laughing and yelling, and every one of them had a glass in their hand. They looked like a pretty happy crowd, that was for sure.

  As we passed the bar Brent reached out and grabbed an expensive looking bottle of alcohol, then kept walking like he had somewhere important to be. There were a few trays of miniature sandwiches sitting on the bar too, and as we passed them I picked one up. I figured it would make me look more legit. But I was also thinking it would probably be a good idea for Brent to eat something.

  We made our way through a doorway and into the galley. But Brent was right, it was actually more like a professional kitchen in a fancy downtown restaurant. I didn’t get a chance to look around too much, though, because Brent immediately took a quick right and went up a flight of stairs.

  I followed him all the way to the end of a long hallway. I couldn’t b
elieve how big this yacht was. We passed at least seven or eight doors along the way. It was like a super, mega yacht, or something. Then, when Brent opened the door to his bedroom, I just about fell over.

  “Holy shit,” I said, looking around at the enormous room with a king size bed and a couch and coffee table. It was decorated with the same brass fixtures and marble surfaces as the living room. “This boat is bigger than the house I live in. It’s bigger than two freaking houses. You could park at least two cars in this room.”

  “Yeah, that’s my dad. Always trying to impress everyone. He never even takes this thing out. He just keeps it moored here for parties and fundraisers and things like that.” Brent opened up the brand new bottle and took a swig, then set it down on the coffee table and started to remove his jacket. “Why don’t you take your clothes off?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, looking around the room. “What am I going to wear?”

  I was starting to feel a little funny. I did want to be alone with Brent. I really liked him and I felt some sort of uncontrollable attraction to him. But I didn’t really want to start something up with him when he was drunk. It didn’t feel very honorable.

  “We’ll figure something out,” Brent said with a smile. “Why don’t you put that down?”

  I looked at my hand and realized I was still holding the tray of little sandwiches. Then I realized how ridiculous I probably looked in my wet clothes. I couldn’t figure out why I was having such a hard time acting normal. It seriously felt like I was under some kind of spell.

  And then it hit me. Now that we were in his room, in an enclosed space, I could smell it … his sweet, musky, incredible omega scent. My head was suddenly swimming as he moved closer to me. His eyes, his hair, his body, his scent—everything about Brent was so … perfect. Every feature I’d ever found attractive, or thought about, or imagined in my head when I was picturing my perfect mate … he had all of them.

  Brent took another swig from the bottle.

  “Here, why don’t you put something in your stomach?” I said, offering him a sandwich off the tray.