Logan turned into the parking lot of the fancy new beachfront retail plaza, not surprised at the location. He didn’t want to think what this place cost, even in a little down like Bright Beach. The Omega probably had someone covering his bills for him so he could pretend to be some Instagram celebrity yoga instructor. Logan was expecting a lot of rose gold and soft pink.

The Alpha was not expecting angry red graffiti, and his eyes widened as he parked the car. Someone had been doing his work for him. “GO HOME OMEGA,” “NOT IN OUR TOWN,” “FUCK OFF PUSSY,” and more were sprayed on the walls and windows of the studio in angry red paint.

Was it Russell? No, his boss would be at the gym at this hour, and this paint was too fresh. He hated to admit it, but it didn’t surprise him too much: people in this little town could be pretty old-fashioned. Maybe Logan would have an easy time of it after all. He climbed out of his car and walked toward the paint-streaked building.

He felt a twinge of guilt that he tried his best to ignore. It was nothing personal, he told himself again, trying to make it true. This guy clearly had money if he could afford beachfront retail space. The Omega could just pack up and try it again in another town. After all, any of the big cities were much more Omega friendly. Why bother with Bright Beach? If he had money, he would be gone in a heartbeat.

As Logan crossed the sandy parking lot, a petite man came around the corner of the building. He had a phone held up to his ear and was clearly absorbed in the call. He glanced briefly at Logan but quickly turned back to the graffiti, one hand on his hip.

This had to be the guy. He wore yoga pants that hugged his ass like a second skin and a loose tank top that fluttered in the breeze. Deep brown hair, shiny enough to be the envy of any woman, was pulled back into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck. He frowned as he looked up at the dripping paint, clearly listening to someone on the phone.

“So you’re saying you’re not even going to send someone out, Officer?” he asked. “Seriously? Not even just to have a record of it?”

Another pause, and he looked startled, like someone had slapped him. “I don’t see what me being an Omega has anything to do with it.” He blinked a few times, then his eyes narrowed. “Fine. I see. Well, thank you for your help.” He jabbed at the screen to end the call, and Logan saw his shoulders sag for a moment as he stared up at the angry red letters. This would be the part where he started crying, probably.

But instead, he turned around, his eyebrows raising as he looked Logan over. “Sorry, we’re not open quite yet,” he said, gesturing behind him at the ruined wall.

Logan blinked. “Do I look like an Omega?” he asked, amused.

The Omega shrugged. “I’ve seen some that would fool you. But by your attitude, I take it you’re an Alpha.” He smiled slightly. “Well, if you’re not here for a workout, then why are you here?”

Logan smiled back, ready with his lie. “I saw your ‘Hiring’ sign,” he said, gesturing to the window. It was partially obscured by the graffiti. “What kind of help do you need?”

Logan could see the Omega sizing him up, instantly on guard. “Well, at the moment I could use someone with cleaning experience,” he said wryly. “Know anyone like that?”

The Alpha flashed his most charming smile. “It may not seem like it, but today is your lucky day.”

* * *

One trip to the hardware store later, Logan had paint, cleaner, and a rented power washer. To his surprise, Gabriel, “call me Gabe,” the Omega, had rolled up his sleeves and insisted on helping with the cleaning.

“You’ll get dirty,” Logan warned, but Gabe had only laughed.

“I get sweaty for a living,” he shot back. “You think a little paint bothers me?”

Running the power washer had made conversation impossible, but they had switched to scrubbing with solvents to get the paint off the glass. “New in town, huh?” Logan asked, trying to be casual. “Bet you won’t stay long after this. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Oh, I’m staying,” Gabe said, surprising Logan. “This means that there’s a need for my studio.”

“Someone painting ‘fuck off’ on your studio means people need it?” Logan was lost.

Gabe grinned at him. “If people are that closed-minded around here, it means that Omegas need a place to go where they can be safe. I’ll put up with a little paint for that.”

The Alpha had to admit, the guy had balls. Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as he first thought. But then, Logan had always liked a challenge. Or at least, he used to. “Why Bright Beach, then?” he asked.

“I used to come here every summer with my parents,” Gabe answered, scrubbing at a stubborn spot of paint. “I always loved it, and I just got a divorce, so I was up for a change of scenery. And here I am.”

Logan smirked. “Oh, a tourist. You’ll hate it after a year, trust me.”

“And why is that?” Gabe asked. “I mean, the people are so welcoming!” He gestured to the paint, and Logan had to laugh.

“Hear me out,” the Alpha said. “I’ve seen this a hundred times. People always think it would be so great to move to wherever they had fun on their vacation. They have good memories, the weather’s nice, blah blah blah. But then once you actually live somewhere and have to work and do the daily grind instead of sipping margaritas on the beach, you get sick of it real fast. I would give anything to get out of here.”

He cursed himself as soon as the words were out. Why was he telling the Omega anything, much less anything so revealing?

“So you were a tourist too?” Gabe asked.

“Nah. Bright Beach born and raised,” Logan said.

“I’m surprised I never ran into you,” the Omega said, looking thoughtful. “A bunch of us kids met up every summer when our families would bring us, but we’d play with local kids too.”

Logan shrugged, dumping some more cleaning solution onto the cloth he was using. “I was never here in the summers in high school. I always went off to football training camp with the rest of the team. No time for lying around on the beach.”

“I can see it paid off. What team do you play for?”

The Alpha shot a glance at Gabe to see if he was being sarcastic, but the Omega looked genuinely curious. “None,” Logan answered. “I just work out a lot. I’m a janitor at Dominion Gym, so I get the membership for free. I’d like to be a trainer though.” There he went again, telling this guy everything. Well, it might make Gabe let his guard down.

“Oh yeah, Dominion Gym. I saw that place when I was looking for locations,” Gabe said. “I wanted to go introduce myself to the owner, but the guy just scowled at me from the window until I left.” He seemed amused instead of bothered by the situation. “That’s your boss?”

“That’s my boss,” Logan said. “Unless you’d like to change that.”

Gabe’s eyes widened, but just as quickly his brows knit, giving him a look of suspicion. “What?”

“He sucks,” the Alpha said, with a shrug. It wasn’t a lie, after all. “I’ve been looking for something different for awhile, but people in this town think I’m no good.” That wasn’t a lie either.

Gabe chuckled. “You missed the part where this is an Omega-only gym. Where do you fit in?”

“Where do you need me to fit in?” Logan realized too late how that must have sounded, but Gabe just shook his head and smiled.

“Look, buddy, I appreciate your help with all this. Truly, I do,” the Omega said, looking up at him. His eyes were hazel, but they glowed almost gold in the morning light. “But if you think you’re going to get into my pants with this nice guy act, you’re really mistaken. I’m here to build a business, not to fuck around with some small town hero.”

Logan had to fight very hard not to snap back at the Omega, but he managed to shrug. “That’s fine. I figured your workouts were going to be pretty light and easy, but I thought I would give you a chance.”

“Easy?” Gabe retorted. He glanced at the fitness tracker watch strapped to his wrist. “All right, big guy. I’ll make an exception this one time. Class starts in 20 minutes. Let’s see how you handle my ‘light and easy’ morning yoga class.”

Logan grinned, wiping away the last streak of paint from the window. “You’re on.”

Gabe paused, making a show of looking the Alpha up and down. “There’s just one little problem,” he said. “Your clothes. I don’t allow baggy clothing in my yoga classes. It’s a safety thing, you know? I can’t make corrections if I can’t see student’s limbs. But don’t you worry,” he said, flashing a grin that made Logan suddenly a little nervous. “I have just the thing in the shop for you.”