Gigi and the Gym Rats: Contemporary Sweet RH Omegaverse: The Candyverse, #2

By Mona Black

Gigi isn't thinking of finding a pack. She is a beta and betas don't care about harems and piling up on a bed like puppies, as omegas and alphas are so fond of doing. And yet...

 

Georgiana Verity Miller - Gigi for her friends – is a beta and happy with her designation.

No, she has no dreams of waking up one day as an omega with a harem of alphas about to, well, you know… do what it takes to help increase the global population.

Alphas? Harems? Babies? Not her thing.

In fact, she knows exactly what she needs and has a masterplan to get it:

A nice beta man, preferably in accounting or sales, and maybe a nice nuclear family in the future.

It's what her mother expects of her. What society dictates a beta should want. What Gigi herself is convinced she desires.

Then why is she suddenly attracting all the hunks of Hunkville to her doorstep?

And not only. It's happening at the gym, too, with all those hunky gym rats.

A beta girl isn't supposed to lust after two, or three, or wait, make that four hunks.

And most of them not even betas.

No way. That's not happening. She's not out to get a harem. She only needs one man and that's final.

Too bad her body didn't get the memo, and all those sweet men flirting with her seem determined to change her mind, too.

 

* This is a sweet omegaverse standalone novel with low angst, four gorgeous guys and a funny beta girl who find happiness together, accepting themselves and finding trust and love in each other. This story contains M/M, knotting, heats and ruts. Please check inside the book for more warnings. Also note that this is not a shifter story, but it is set in a world where apart from gender, we have a designation as alpha, beta, omega, or more.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Wing Press
• Release date: Feb 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224975112

Book preview

1

GIGI

S o, my friend Coco says, twirling a pink curl around her forefinger, is it a boy or a girl?

To be fair, she winks while saying that so probably we’re not talking about babies.

I think. I mean, are we? Oh crap, what did I miss?

My gaze instantly goes to Bee. She’d be the perfect target for such a question, since she’s moved in with her pack and already gone through one heat. Is she preggers? But she’s talking to June about dresses, from the sounds of it, so… no.

I glance around my friends’ faces and… nope. None of them seem glowy-pregnant. Or pukey-pregnant.

And belatedly I realize that the question is directed at me. I mean, given that all eyes are on me, expectant, pun intended. June’s cornflower blue eyes, Coco’s pretty chocolatey ones, and Bee’s wide gaze, too.

June elbows me. Spill, Gigi.

I’m sorry? I manage. What?

Your new crush, sweet cheeks. The one who’s got you so distracted you’ve already added three stevia packages to your coffee. Is it a boy or a girl?

Oh shit. And I hate stevia. It gives me stomach burn.

I push my mug away and look around for any possible rescue. Sadly, Sawyer, the cute omega who happens to be the owner of Book Café and a nice guy all around, is busy at the back, preparing drinks for the customers sitting at other tables.

I have to face facts. No one is coming to my rescue.

Tucking an errand strand of red hair behind my ear, I cast about for something to say that won’t betray my real thoughts. You mean… at the gym?

Sure, honey, Coco says, leaning back in her chair as if getting ready for a long story. Or a show. I bet she’d be munching on popcorn if she had any handy. Let’s start from there.

I roll my eyes. And I’m not crushing on him. He’s my trainer, all right? He’s just… attractive. Physically. And you knew that because I’ve told you before.

Officially, that’s your story.

Now what’s that supposed to mean? I mutter.

They all exchange glances as if they know something I don’t.

Do they?

No, wait. They’re hinting at something they weren’t supposed to know, and I’m not admitting to anything.

I like the way he looks, I say. That’s it. I think he’s sexy, okay? Nothing wrong with that.

Nobody said⁠—

I’m a beta with a healthy sexual appetite, I go on, and if you must know, I haven’t gotten laid in quite a while, so excuse me if I fantasize sometimes about a strong, big alpha to just ram his d⁠—

Coco coughs. Girl, people are listening in.

They are? Oh boy. Shoot. I glance around and sure enough, several customers have leaned forward, looking at us. Listening to us.

Christ.

I should start charging tickets for this show. It would pay my rent.

All I was trying to say, Coco says, is that it’s okay to want more than one hunk, be it a girl or a boy. All of us here empathize and understand you. Right, Bee?

You know it, Bee says with a grin.

I shake my head. No, no, no. Not right at all. I’m a beta. One hundred percent. I love being a beta! I’m just waiting for my soulmate to find me. I’m not interested in several guys. Just the one, okay? And it’s not even serious. Lust isn’t serious. It’s only casual sex I’m interested in right now, to be honest. And…

The customers have leaned forward even further. I should probably lower my voice. No idea why I’m getting so worked up about this. We’re only here to have cake and talk about Bee’s newfound happy life with her pack, right? Not about me.

But Bee then says, What about your roommate, then? I saw you two talking and you looked pretty cozy together.

Oh, no. I lift my hands and shake my head. No. That’s it, I want my lawyer.

Look, wanting more than one man is not a crime, is it? Bee reasons with me as I walk her across the street from the café to her new place where she lives with the St. Laurent pack. She lives in a new high-rise. The apartments there cost more than I will ever make in a lifetime, but that’s okay because two of her boyfriends are super rich.

No crime, no. I mean, if you only want them… I let the idea play out in my head. For sex.

Yes, for sex, she says slowly, watching my face. Why, what else did you think I meant?

Nothing, I say quickly. After all, she’s absolutely right. So what if I’m attracted to more than one man? I just wanted that clarified, laid out in black and white. Like I said, a healthy sexual appetite is natural. Right?

Listen, she says gently, I’d be the last person to tell you how to live your life. But your designation shouldn’t matter. I learned that from you guys.

You’re an omega, I protest. You’re meant to be with a pack.

But I had planned to be with a pack even before I knew I was an omega.

"Yes, but your true nature shone through in the end, didn’t it? There’s no doubt about my designation. I don’t even want to be an omega. I just…"

Want sex?

Yes.

Then go get it, girl. What’s stopping you?

Good question.

As it turns out, many things.

Bee may well tell me to just go and get laid, and maybe she thinks that with me being a beta it’s really simple. We all have certain ideas and stereotypes on our minds about designations. Omegas are the sensitive, weepy ones. Alphas are the growly, strong ones. And betas, well, they are the independent, I’ll-go-for-it-just-you-watch-me types.

Sex without attachments.

Control of our emotions at all times.

Nurturing but not clingy.

Faithful but shying away from quick commitment.

Seeking our one and only true mate to spend our lives with.

As I climb the stairs to the first floor of the Book Café where I currently reside, sharing an apartment with a guy and a girl who isn’t Bee because Bee moved out, I realize I have no idea why we think such things.

I open the door with my key and step inside, kicking off my shoes and nudging them with my foot to the side, then stepping through the hall.

Not that I’m saying those ideas are necessarily false, only that they seem a little too restrictive and I think…

I’m sorry, what was I saying?

A bare, muscular back, swirls of dark ink depicting fantastic beasts covering most of it.

Powerful, inked arms.

A tight ass, clad in clingy running shorts.

Is that the sound of my brain short-circuiting?

Oh, sorry. Introductions, Gigi! Where are your manners?

Meet my roommate, Ronin.

And maybe my hormones are all over the place. Definitely blaming my hormones. Why should alphas and omegas have the monopoly of that? Sure, I may not go into a heat or a rut, but hey, I’m a woman. I can be hormonal if I want.

And God, he smells so intense. Very alpha-like, pungent, like vetiver and leather imbued with male musk.

I think I might be drooling just a little. Can’t really blame me. I mean, look at him!

And then he turns, pulling his T-shirt on, probably hearing me panting like a bitch in heat, and cracks a grin. Hey, Gigi. What’s up?

It’s a devastating grin. Makes up for him covering up his chest before I get a good look at it.

Maybe.

My gaze doesn’t linger on his face, though. He’s just back from a run, that much is obvious from the way his shorts cling to his muscular thighs, his wet hair, and the sheen of sweat on his glorious muscular, well, everything. Torso, arms, shoulders. All covered in colorful ink.

That face… Helen’s may have launched a thousand ships but Ronin’s would have launched more, had Paris been into guys, I’m sure. Those blue eyes and that cut jaw, the silver hoop in his patrician nose and in one pale brow… And then that panty-melting grin?

Good lord.

Let me launch a few ships for you, boy…

Cat eat your tongue? Did you need something? Ronin pulls up the hem of his T-shirt to wipe at his face, and if that doesn’t fry my brain more… because the move bares a serious eight-pack, all deep ridges and perfect planes and… Dragging my eyes back to his face takes serious effort. I think I wrenched a muscle somewhere inside my head.

Nah. I shrug, hoping he can’t hear my ragged breathing. I was just down with the girls having coffee. Going to study a bit now.

The girls? Was that pretty brunette with you? What was her name… Coco?

A strange sting goes through my chest. You like Coco?

What? She’s cute. Isn’t she an omega?

She’s a beta, I snap, like me. Sorry to disappoint.

He frowns at me, and I frown at me, too. What the hell, self? What is this stab of irrational jealousy all of a sudden? This isn’t like me. I’m a happy-go-lucky sort of girl.

I need to get laid, stat.

Gigi, he starts, but I don’t want to hear whatever he has to say. He’s probably about to ask me about all the girls I hang out with, and to tell me how gorgeous they all are.

I know, okay? They totally are. They are the cutest girls.

But I turn my back to him before he manages to get another word in and head to my room, where I proceed to flop on top of my bed and drag my Bose headphones over my ears, blocking out the world.

I miss Bee. When she arrived here, only two months ago, she was so lost she gave me a purpose. I was her guide, her friend, her rescuer.

Now she’s found her path and I’m frigging happy for her but I feel left in the dust. Not that my family expects me to settle down and have babies. Not my family. There is no pressure. No expectations, at least not in that department. Nobody drilling me—well, except for my friends—about liking anyone, about any potential boyfriend on the horizon.

Why is it that sometimes I wish they expected more from me?

2

GIGI

I ’ve found you a new potential roommate, Sawyer says when I swing by the Book Café to grab my usual as I return from my early morning jog. I’m still panting and take a moment to get my breath back, stretching my arms over my head.

Not that this is out of my way or anything. I live on top of the café, like I said, in an apartment I share with Ronin and Sophie—and Bee, but Bee has already collected all her stuff and officially moved out about a month ago.

She had been living with her pack by then already, but you know how it is. She was so busy with them at first—all that sex, rawr—that she apparently couldn’t get an hour off to empty her room.

Wait, Gigi, is that resentment I hear? First jealousy, now resentment.

Something’s wrong with me.

I said, I found you a new potential roommate. Sawyer puts my coffee on the bar, just the way I like it—low-fat milk, no sugar, a dusting of cinnamon on top—and leans back against the counter, beside the coffee machine. He folds his arms over his chest. Did you hear me?

He’s a sweet omega guy, really cute with his dark curls and large hazel eyes, though he really should join a gym and build his upper body strength.

Why the hell am I checking Sawyer out?

Vetted by you? I ask, drawing the coffee toward me, realizing something more is expected of me. This potential roommate?

Yep.

Know her well?

We went to summer camp together. He’s a nice guy.

A man. A thought occurs to me. Sawyer, don’t tell me it’s another alpha. I already have two alpha roommates. I swear, every time Sophie and Ronin cross paths inside the apartment, they growl at each other.

He arches a brow. They do? That’s something I’d like to see. Or hear.

I don’t care about your alpha-related fetishes, Sawyer.

He chuckles. You’re the one who brought the growling up.

I sigh and grin. One day you’ll find your alphas and you’ll be happy like a pig in the mud.

Surely you mean as a bug in a rug.

Whatever rocks your boat. Wait, wasn’t there a girl you were pining over?

Pining? Nope. His cheeks color. He turns and busies himself checking the coffee machine that definitely needs no checking. Never.

Why, is she out of the picture? Or didn’t you get the nerve to ask her out yet?

Gigi…

Is she an alpha?

Gigi!

Okay, okay. I lift my hands. I’m not pushing.

She said after she pushed him off the cliff, he intones and shoots me a small grin. He grabs a hand towel and wipes the spotless counter. So… would you like to meet my guy?

Your guy, is it?

Stop it. He’s just an old friend. And he’s an omega.

Two omegas together would be kinky.

I didn’t realize you were into kink.

I shrug and fiddle with my phone to hide my expression. I don’t know what I am into. I like sex. Haven’t had it in a while. In… more than a year, at least. Or two? Baby Jesus. No wonder I get all breathless when I’m around hunky, muscular boys.

His name is Casey, Sawyer goes on and it takes me a minute to remember who he’s talking about. Right, the roommate. Casey Hunnam. I think you’d like him.

What about the alphas I live with? Would that work out?

Oh, Casey is religious about taking his suppressants and blockers. Shouldn’t be an issue.

Good. Okay. I put my phone down. Can’t put it off any longer. And it’s Sawyer’s apartment. He needs that rent money. When can we meet him?

He could swing by tonight.

In a hurry to move in?

You could say that. Look… Sawyer takes a breath and finally puts the damn towel down. Just meet him. If you don’t like him, no problem. See if you all feel comfortable with him. He really needs a place to stay and if you don’t want him, I’ll help him look for someplace else.

But he’s Sawyer’s old friend and Sawyer really seems keen on putting him up upstairs with us. No pressure.

What if he’s a troll? A nasty person? What if he never showers and leaves all his dirty dishes in the kitchen? Omegas can be as nasty as alphas.

We betas are always nice.

Just kidding.

Fine, I say. Send him up tonight. And may the odds be in his favor.

An omega. Ronin doesn’t sound exactly thrilled when I break the news to him, just as I expected. I don’t like it.

Sawyer says he takes his suppressants religiously, it shouldn’t be an issue⁠—

I don’t like omegas.

I stare at him. Ronin…

What?

"You’re an alpha. You’re supposed to love omegas. You’re not making any sense."

Why? he snarls. Because I’m an alpha I have to spend my life panting after omegas?

"Well, not… not exactly. But you should at least, I don’t know… like them? As a rule?"

Says who?

He’s giving me a belligerent look and I’m in no mood for war.

Also, the image of Ronin panting after an omega, of Ronin panting and sweaty and aroused, period, is too much. I grab a mug from the kitchen cupboard, almost dropping it as I brush by him to carry it to the table.

Just saying, Ron. I shrug. Alphas and omegas. Pot and kettle. A match made in heaven.

That’s not what pot and kettle means. He glowers. Runs a hand over his blond faux-hawk. And I don’t like this. We should get an alpha or a beta instead.

Because us betas are below your radar, I mutter under my breath.

What?

Nothing. I shouldn’t feel stung. I don’t. Really. I’m good. "Well, he’s coming, so deal with it. And I happen to like omegas just fine."

See how this hasn’t affected me at all? … right.

Okay. He sounds a bit uncertain now, his brow creased. You okay?

Fine.

Is it that time of the month?

Time of the month? I glower at him. Know what? Screw you, Ronin. Are you saying I’m hormonal? I’m not.

God, maybe I am.

But screw him anyway.

You stopped jogging with me, he says. A total change of topic. And he’s frowning.

As if he’s annoyed by that.

I shrug. I go earlier now, I mumble.

Why?

Starting a new health plan. I was getting lazy.

Tell me about it. The glower is gone. His eyes are shining. He likes this. We have that in common. A healthy lifestyle. Exercise. Healthy food. Cardio and stretching and discussing diet plans.

He’s right, I stopped jogging with him. Stopped doing lots of things with him. Problem is, I was always attracted to him and at some point, I realized I had to cut my losses and pull back before he realized and pitied me. Before it got uncomfortable between us.

Because now it’s not uncomfortable. At all.

Just… getting back in the saddle, I muttered. Jogging, yoga, gym⁠—

I want to go jogging with you again.

It’s my turn to give him a long look. Really?

And his turn to shrug. I… liked it. I mean, I’m fine listening to music while running, I just… Fuck, never mind.

I’m so stunned by his admission, the strange hesitation, the hot flash in his pale eyes, that I sit up and nod. Fine. Jogging together it is.

Hear that? It’s the door bell, Sophie says. Oh fuck, is it our potential omega roommate?

I told Gigi already, I don’t like it, Ronin says.

You guys are both drama queens, I mutter as the doorbell rings again.

Pheromones, Ronin complains. I won’t be able to get anything done. I’ll be walking around with a hard-on all day and without even wanting the guy. You have no fucking idea how badly that sucks.

Okay…

Now I have an image of Ronin walking around all day with a tent in his pants.

The image will live rent-free in my mind forever.

Suppressants, I say as I go to get the door. He uses suppressants. Stop bitching and moaning, the both of you. Let’s meet the guy before we make up our minds.

I’m starting to feel sympathetic toward this Casey before I’ve even met him just because the two alphas’ bitching is getting so annoying. Telling myself to keep an open mind, I open the door and… blink.

Whoa.

Sawyer’s friend sure is a looker.

Casey Hunnam has that classic male beauty that manages to be both boyish and sexy. His short hair is black, his brows thick and straight, his eyes a cool gray. Dressed simply in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, he manages somehow to look stylish. He’s tall for an omega, taller than Sawyer, and has strong shoulders, while still displaying that slim physique that’s often seen in male omegas and…

And I never thought I could find an omega sexy. Jesus, like I needed more hunks around me right now. Like… Sawyer is cute. Casey is hot.

Like hot, hot.

Hi, he says, smiling a little. You must be Sophie.

Nope. I realize I’m staring. I’m Gigi. And you must be Casey. Come on in.

Sorry. He ducks his head, cheekbones coloring as he steps inside. Two girls. I forgot.

Do I look like an alpha?

He shakes his head, paling. Sorry.

Don’t worry about it, I say, struggling not to let my annoyance bleed into my opinion of him, the opinion I’m starting to form. Alphas are cool, they’re just… so unlike me. Two girls, one guy. And you, if we decide we like you.

He flinches slightly and nods.

Flighty, I think. No, skittish. I stressed him with my last pronouncement.

Then again, better if he goes in prepared for the two alphas sitting in our kitchen. The two alphas who’ve already rejected him because of his designation, before even meeting him in person.

But I sense that I will fight for him to stay, because have I mentioned he’s hot?

And maybe he’ll get my mind off Ronin, though how is focusing on an omega instead of an alpha any better? Christ. Where have all the betas gone, huh?

Like my mom always says, "Come on, Gigi, get your ducks in a row."

Look, I’m trying. It’s just that, somehow, all my ducks seem to be male ducks of the wrong designation and they’re all over the place.

3

GIGI

G uys, this is Casey, I call out as I show him into the kitchen, and when I draw breath to say more, his scent seeps into my senses, subtle yet unmistakable, sweet masculine power, dark vanilla with a dash of powder sugar.

Uh-oh. Those blockers not working?

And of course, the moment he steps inside, both alphas sniff the air like hounds on a scent.

Quite literally.

Shit. Casey stops in his tracks, eyes widening. Uh…

Ronin takes a step toward us, hands fisting at his sides, pale brows drawing together, while Sophie abandons her spatula inside the bowl and narrows her eyes at Casey.

What’s going on? I whisper. Casey, maybe you should get out of here.

But I used blockers and suppressants, he says, red blooming on his cheeks. They shouldn’t be able to smell me.

It’s a bust, I think, unaccountably sad. Wanting a roommate because he’s hot doesn’t count as a valid reason, does it?

I’m sorry, Casey says, still backtracking, sorry for this, I’ll go. Dammit, I don’t know where to go, I⁠—

You’re staying, I decide.

"Gigi," Ronin growls.

Not a good idea, Sophie chimes in.

I’ll go get him some more blockers, I say. And he’ll stay in the empty room until they work. And then we can talk.

What are you doing? Ronin demands in a low hiss. I told you, I can’t⁠—

It’s late, I cut in before he says anything nasty. Casey looks scared and stressed enough as it is. I’m not sending him out now.

He can stay with Sawyer, Sophie says.

What’s the matter? I taunt them. You can’t control yourselves enough not to jump on him? No self-control?

Fuck. Goddammit. Ronin throws me a cold glare, then storms out of the room.

Yeah, okay, I seem to have touched a nerve.

Make sure he stays behind a locked door, Sophie growls, taking off her apron and chucking it on the counter, her glare a match for Ronin’s.

Sure. I sigh, and turn to Casey who’s gone back to pale. You good there?

Maybe I should go.

Your suppressants or blockers failed. It happens. Did you change brand on either?

Yeah. I was getting a reaction to the suppressants, and I’ve been trying a new kind. I hadn’t realized they weren’t working.

Everything will be fine, you’ll see. They’re nice guys, once you get to know them. We’ll give it another try tomorrow.

He gives me a smile then, shy and sweet, and good God, he’s so cute! Boyish and yet with those nice shoulders and a strong jaw, he looks like a supermodel right off the catwalk. My traitorous body is all too happy to be near him.

And then I have another thought and I almost come on the spot, because this hunkness overload, honestly…

Did Casey make Ronin hard? Is he hard right now as he moves about his room, getting ready for bed?

Now I won’t be able to sleep a wink all night…

Here, I say, sheets and a pillow. I throw them on the bed of the currently unoccupied room. Now you also get a chance to check out the room where you’d be staying.

That’s kind of you, Casey says quietly. He’s standing at the window, looking out. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.

Not your fault. And it’s no problem. I watch him, not very discreetly truth be told, his perfect profile, the high cheekbones, the full mouth. So omega and yet so… male. I’ve never thought of Sawyer that way, although he’s a handsome man as well, as I can objectively state. I’ve never been physically attracted to Sawyer. Or to Bee or any other omega.

That’s the difference. I feel attracted to Casey.

Casey who’s lounging against the window like a sitcom actor in a break from the shooting, looking debonair and effortlessly elegant even in his plain T-shirt and jeans.

I don’t know why I keep thinking of modeling and acting careers for him. There’s something so… unreal about him and yet when he turns his head to smile at me, that smile is so real it’s like a hook sinking into my heart.

Back up, Gigi… Whoa. He’s dangerous. Maybe Ronin is right. Maybe letting Casey in here to stay with us is a big mistake.

But then he says, I’ll take my suppressants and stay out of your way if you let me stay. It’s really close to where I’ve found work and it’s the only affordable place I’ve found. Sawyer is a savior. I was starting to panic until he told me about this chance.

Oh, crap… The hook is still firmly embedded in my feels.

I’m going to go get those suppressants for you, I say. Don’t go anywhere.

I’m not going anywhere near the alphas. He lifts his hands. Don’t worry.

I just meant… I shake my head. Know what? Never mind. I’ll be right back.

A complication, I think as I trot two blocks down to a new drugstore that opened recently. You don’t need complications. What you need is what you told Ronin. Make a new plan. Stick to that plan. Straighten out any crimps and steer away from any temptation.

Wear yourself out with exercise and discipline until no crack in your armor remains.

I can do this.

But I can’t kick Casey out on the street without giving him a chance. Imagine being an omega and having to stop your heats and cover up your scent at all times. Imagine having to be on pills to make sure the alphas around you don’t go apeshit and try to rape you. Imagine having to tread carefully wherever you go because you’re a walking snack for any alpha in the vicinity, and maybe for some betas, too. Smelling like vanilla frost and caramel syrup and all the sugary things, hooking the alphas, drawing them in by the nose.

Who knew alphas had a sweet tooth?

I grin at the thought as I grab