Page 28 of Coco and the Misfits (The Candyverse #4)

ZACH

T his is fucking impossible. Literally and psychologically impossible, goddammit. What’s happening to me?

I fume as I limp home, fume and groan with every step, trying to figure out this puzzle and failing. Who could I talk to about this? My dad? My mom?

Hell, no.

A doctor. I’ll have to make an appointment.

This can’t keep happening. I realized that she means…

something to me. I want to see her. She’s in my thoughts.

In my dreams. In my fantasies, and not only the sexual ones.

When we started talking, when we kissed, I chalked it up to the usual attraction I get to random girls, but it feels different.

I’ve been looking forward to seeing her again while she refused to see me all week, and now… Now this idiot that is me finally sees and touches her, and what happens?

Another knot.

Every time I’m around her, I pop a fucking knot! Like a hormonal teenager, unable to control my body’s reactions. She may be an omega but she’s not even in heat.

So what the hell is going on with me?

When she elbowed me right there… fuck. The agony of a punch in the dick, but make it twenty-fold. I thought I was going to die, or break down and cry like a little snotty boy.

Fuck!

I whip out my phone as I reach my street and scroll to find the number of our gym physician. He’s a friend of Cole’s, Cole being the owner, and he’s retired and hangs around the gym for emergencies.

But it’s late. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

The shower is beckoning, as does my right hand. I’m going to rub my cock raw if this doesn’t stop soon. I should invest in a good lotion.

That’s not a solution, idiot. You have to stop popping knots. But how?

Lost in thought, I almost crash into another alpha. I know it’s an alpha right away from the intense, deep scent.

“Fuck, sorry, I… Ryder ?” It’s the tattoo artist who inked that fucking phoenix on my chest. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. I remember you from that night. You were so drunk. Are you drunk again? You’re walking kinda funny.”

“No.”

“What’s the matter with you? Did you have an accident? Shall I call someone?”

I try to sidestep him. “Fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

“So polite.” I sharp grin. “You’re Coco’s friend, aren’t you?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Friend. Right.”

“Or lover.”

“I wish,” I growl.

“And what’s stopping you?”

“It’s not that simple,” I mutter.

“Sure it is, with a pretty girl like her.”

“She means more to me than that.” I don’t know why I’m spilling my guts to this guy I barely know. “If you’d slept with her, you’d know what I mean.”

He rubs his eyes and gives a dry laugh. “Well, that sure complicates things.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Because I did sleep with her.”

“You fucker!” I shove at him, anger rising in me like a black wave. “What the hell?”

“It was consensual, I assure you.”

“Fuck you.” I shove him again and he lets me.

“You slept with her and then you go around telling people about it? Worse, you slept with her and felt nothing? Did you hurt her? She’s a golden girl, with the best heart you’ll ever meet.

” I shake my head, glaring. “Tell me you didn’t fuck her and leave her. ”

He laughs again, more bitterly than before. “Hell, man, if you’re so in love with her, why don’t you propose?”

“ Still none of your business.”

“Go start a pack and make her your omega. She’s sweet, and her pussy is?—”

“Shut your fucking piehole,” I hiss, pulling my fist back, “or I’ll cut off your dick and choke you with it.”

His brows go up. “Hold your guns. Maybe you really are in love with her. Take my advice, boy.” He leans in, putting a hand on my clenched fist. “You say she has the best heart. That may be so, but it has a dark shard in it. Are you ready for her? Ready to accept her as she is?”

And with that parting shot, he turns around and goes.

I’d run after him and kick him in the balls, only I can barely walk.

Goddammit!

* * *

The cold shower helps. As does my right hand. My two roommates spend an hour knocking on the door, though, calling me names, and I’m still sore and exhausted by the time I stumble into my room.

This solution isn’t practical. It’s not a real solution.

I could just stay away from Coco. The week when I didn’t see her, the problem didn’t present itself. But that would mean… staying away from Coco.

Just when I decided I’d like to spend more time with her.

Get to know her better.

Explore possibilities.

Explore her body.

But dammit, she slept with Ryder. Does she still want him? And what about Atticus? She swears they haven’t fucked, but what if they have a thing?

Maybe that’s why I’m popping knots. I feel like a total teenager, unsure and insecure.

This has never happened to me before, including when I was an actual teenager.

I was always confident and never doubted myself.

The football star at school, always popular with the girls.

Never sick. Never defeated by my body or others.

I know, it sounds conceited. Like I’m full of shit. But I’ve always been the golden boy, fitting perfectly into society without even trying. Pretending my family’s split-up never affected me. Walking on clouds.

I’ve had an easy life. A good life. Can’t complain about anything. It’s just that now, when it comes to thinking seriously about a person… I find myself backpedaling.

My parents had fought a lot as I was growing up, before they split. I remember yelling, slamming doors, tears. They never involved me in any of it, but I was there. Crouched behind the door. Listening. Fearing. Wondering why anyone should ever commit.

Throwing an arm over my burning forehead, lying on my back in bed, I lift my phone and open a search engine.

Doomsday scrolling. I bet I’ll find out that I’m about to die, or that my dick will fall off from an incurable disease.

But nothing comes up. Looks like it’s not something commonly affecting people.

Great.

I was going to take a leap of faith, take a chance and jump over the obstacles my mind keeps putting up so I can ask her… ask her to hang out with me. Go out with me. Try this relationship thing. In case she wants it. In case she doesn’t care that I’m not ready for a pack.

For her… maybe I’d form a pack. Climb a mountain.

Go on a quest and bring her a fairy crown to wear.

Dammit, I’m obsessed with her. Her pink hair.

Her soulful eyes. Her foul mouth. Her curves.

Her fuck-it attitude. Her joy for life. Knowing she was almost kidnapped has rearranged the priorities in my brain, and the fear of losing her has jolted me so hard I don’t want her out of my sight.

I have to find a way to get rid of this knotty issue so I can be with my dream girl.