Page 4

Chapter 4

Harlow

I wake with a start, my heart racing. I’m not in my own bed. The unfamiliar sheets feel luxurious against my bare skin, and the pillow beneath my head is soft and plush.

Memories of last night come rushing back, and heat creeps up my cheeks as I remember Carver’s hands on me, his mouth claiming mine. His knot deep inside me.

We slept together. Oh god, I slept with my boyfriend’s brother.

Panicked, I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest.

My eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of Carver. The bathroom door is ajar, the light off.

He must have left for training already.

Just then, I hear voices drifting in from the other room. My stomach twists when I recognize one of them.

“Have you seen Harlow? She isn’t in her bedroom,” Colton asks, his voice laced with sleep.

Colton. My ex-boyfriend. The one I just betrayed in the worst way is asking about me.

What a fucking nerve.

“Maybe she went home with someone last night. Like you did,” Carver responds, his tone cool and measured.

I can practically hear the tension in the air. Carver is baiting him, and Colton is rising to the bait.

“Mind your own fucking business, Carver. Now where is Harlow?”

“She’s an alpha, Colton. Not like the pretty omega you had last night.” Carver’s voice is low, like he knows I might be listening. “She’ll never be enough…”

She’ll never be enough.

Am I enough for Carver if he is wrong about my designation?

My heart plummets into my stomach.

I can’t face them, but I can’t stay here either. Gathering the sheet around me, I slowly stand and make my way to the bedroom door.

“Who was she? The omega,” Carver asks again, his voice deepening as I step out into the hallway.

“Who the fuck are you?” Colton hisses.

I tiptoe to my room with the lightest of steps until I reach my room and glance back.

“I’m Harlow’s friend. Are you going to be honest with her when she comes home?”

Friend?

He told me I was his.

I can’t take it anymore.

I glance at my phone, seeing that it’s already past seven am. The guys will leave for hockey practice soon.

I’ll stay in my room until they leave. I’m not ready to see Colton. I don’t want him seeing the sadness written on my face.

Quickly, I step back into my room and lock the door, leaning against it as I try to calm my racing heart.

Maybe I misunderstood Colton with the girl. Otherwise, why is he asking about me?

His hand was stroking up and down her back.

I need to remember it all. I need to remember that I fucked his brother in retaliation—it can’t have been for any other reason.

What the hell have I done?

"She’s not enough." Carver's words to Colton echo in my head.

Last night with Carver was a mistake, and I need to get out of here before things escalate.

I scroll through my contacts until I find Holly’s number. I tap the screen and hold the phone to my ear, praying she answers.

“Hello?” Holly’s sleepy voice comes through the line.

“Holly, it’s me. I need your help,” I whisper urgently.

“Harlow? Are you okay?”

“I’m...I’m still at Colton’s place. But I—I need to get out of here. If the offer is still there...” I glance towards the door, wincing as I hear the raised voices from the kitchen. “I need to get out of New York.”

“Oh my god, what happened?” Holly asks, suddenly wide awake. “Has Colton–”

“I’ll explain later, but can you help me? Please, I’m begging you.”

There’s a brief pause, then Holly responds, “Of course. I’ll make some calls and then I’ll be there as soon as I can to pick you up. Just hang tight, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that. I just need to know there’s a job for me in LA and if you know of somewhere I can stay.”

“Yeah. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay. Thank you, Holly. You’re a lifesaver.” I breathe a sigh of relief as she hangs up.

I press my ear to the door, trying to gauge how much time I have before the guys leave. The shouting has died down, but I can still hear the tension in their voices.

“It’s over, Colton. You blew it,” Carver says, his tone hard.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Colton demands.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Harlow deserves better than you.”

My heart leaps at Carver’s words, but I force myself to push those feelings aside.

I’m an alpha. Carver is an alpha too. We’ll never work. He more or less admitted it to his brother.

Because of that, I can’t get caught up in this argument. I have to get out of here before everything implodes.

Glancing around the room, I quickly gather my clothes and start getting dressed, wincing as I pull on my jeans. My body is still sore from last night, a painful reminder of my first knot.

You’re an alpha, Harlow. What the hell were you thinking? Omegas would never ache this much the day after.

Fifteen minutes later, I hear the front door slam, and I know the guys have left for hockey practice.

Letting out a shaky breath, I open my door and peek out, making sure the coast is clear before hurrying to the front door.

A few minutes later, my cell chimes with a text.

Holly: I’m outside your building. Be quick.

I sink into my airline seat, grateful for Holly’s first-class upgrade.

My muscles ache, but this is different than usual. It’s not like the lingering pain from my accident. This ache is deeper, more primal, and it feels like my core is still pulsing as it remembers his knot.

No omega would ache like this afterward.

Opening my purse, I pull out my signature perfume. The one my mother buys me each Christmas and birthday.

I spray a cloud in front of me and inhale deeply.

Carver’s words echo in my head: “You smell like coconut and pineapple with a hint of vanilla and rum.”

That’s what he must have caught the smell of. It’s just my perfume mixing with my natural alpha pheromones.

The flight attendant passes by, and I catch a whiff of something...different. Like fresh bread and butter. I furrow my brow, knowing I’ve never noticed scents this strongly before. Must be the altitude playing tricks on my nose.

Then a twinge shoots through my lower back, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

Mom’s going to kill me when she finds out I’ve been skipping physical therapy again. But those sports massages work just as well, and they are so much cheaper. Besides, what doctor would understand an alpha’s healing process?

My phone buzzes with a text from Holly.

My friend Freya will pick you up at LAX. She owns a bakery in downtown LA. She has a spare room, and she’s hardly ever home. Too busy at work. You’ll love her.

I close my eyes, trying to focus on my fresh start in LA, but Carver’s face keeps appearing in my mind. The way he looked at me, like he knew something about me I didn’t.

And the intensity in his eyes when he insisted I was...

No. I push the thought away. I know who I am. I’ve always known.

Another wave of unfamiliar scents hits me as a group of passengers walk past my seat. My stomach churns, and I grip the armrest until my knuckles turn white.

Maybe I’m coming down with something. Or maybe it’s just stress from everything that’s happened.

I grab a blanket, pulling it over my head. All I need is sleep and I’ll feel back to normal again very soon.

Five hours later, I step into the arrivals area at LAX. I smile as I walk toward a tallish woman with copper hair, holding a sign with my name.

“Freya.” I glance at my name on a piece of card in her hand.

She grins. “Harlow? I’m Freya.”

I hold out my hand. “Thanks for letting me stay. ”

“Oh my god, you’re even prettier than Holly said!” Freya squeals, ignoring my outstretched hand and wrapping me in a tight hug. “I hope you like sugar because I brought samples. I always bring samples. It’s like my thing. Well, technically, baking is my thing, but bringing samples is my other thing.”

I can’t help but laugh. Her energy is infectious. “I love sugar. And hugs from strangers, apparently.”

“We’re not strangers anymore. We’re roomies!” She links her arm through mine. “Come on, your chariot awaits. And by chariot, I mean my very reliable but slightly beat-up Honda. Don’t judge me.”

"I prefer second class chariots to first class walks."

She holds her finger in the air and says, "I'll tell that to my mother next time she moans about it."

The drive to Freya’s apartment is filled with stories about her bakery mishaps, but I’m happy to not think about my own troubles.

“So there I was, covered in flour, trying to explain to these guys why their wedding cake had turned purple instead of blue. Turns out, I’m slightly colorblind. Who knew?”

“Please tell me you didn’t actually serve it,” I gasp between giggles.

“Of course not! I made them a new one. Luckily, I had to make a multicolored cake for a kid’s birthday party.”

We pull up to her building, and my jaw drops.

And when we get inside, the view of the hills stretches out before us, palm trees swaying in the breeze.

“This is...wow.”

“Right? Not too shabby for a baker. My parents are loaded and bought me it to get me onto the property ladder. Obviously, they have no hope of their daughter finding a pack.” She laughs and leads me inside to a cozy apartment filled with mismatched furniture and the smell of fresh bread. “Welcome home! ”

“This is perfect,” I breathe, taking in the warm colors and personal touches everywhere.

“Oh! Almost forgot! Holly told me about what happened.” She looks sheepish before she dashes to the kitchen and returns with a box. “Emergency comfort food. These are my famous chocolate chunk cookies. The secret ingredient is...”

“Let me guess—sugar and love?”

“Ha! No, it’s espresso powder. But that’s way less romantic.”

I bite into one and nearly melt. “I’m never leaving. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Yeah?” Freya grins, already pulling out more treats. “My last roommate left me because I’m—” She sticks her hands in the air and curls her pointer and middle fingers to make air quotes. “I’m too much, apparently.”

“Never.” I throw my arms around her. “I just love ‘too much.’” I mimic her air quotes.

I help Freya clean up the kitchen after our impromptu cookie feast.

I already love her.

She hums while she works, dancing between the sink and dishwasher with a grace that contradicts her usually scattered movements.

“You know what’s funny?” Freya says, spinning around with a wet plate. “Most people think I’m this way because I’m hyper or something, but it’s actually because I’m trying so hard to be perfect for a pack.”

The plate slips from her hands. I catch it before it hits the floor.

“Thanks.” She takes it back, her usual brightness dimming. “But as I’m an omega who’s never had a pack, I don’t really know what they want. I’m twenty-seven years old and pack-less. Whenever I meet a pack, they always say I’m too....” She swallows. “They always say I’m too much. Too loud, too scattered, too eager about everything.”

What the fuck do they want?

My chest tightens at the pain in her voice. “Freya—”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but I’m used to it. Just wish someone would see past all...” She gestures at herself with her finger. “And like me.”

“I’m sure the perfect alpha is out there waiting for you. Does it have to be a pack?”

“I suppose not. I smelled an—” She shakes her head. “There’s…” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Tell me,” I push.

She smiles. “There’s a club I use when I need…” She pauses another moment. “Do you need knots?”

“Me?” My voice lifts an octave, but Freya laughs.

“I do. I need the club when I’m feeling like I need an alpha. I’m going tomorrow if you’d like to join me. I mean, if you need an alpha to hold you. You don’t have to have sex. I do. I need to feel—” Her face turns a beautiful shade that matches the red in her hair.

“I get it.”

I can’t talk about him. But I can’t forget about him either. Not when I spent years pretending that he had never affected me—but he did.

And since Carver knotted me, I’ve fought my feelings. He did something to me I can’t comprehend.

And the sex… Even I’m getting a little anxious and needy as she describes what happens in the club.

I’m not interested in relationships, but jeez, I’d love a knot .

Colton has scarred me off alphas for life. A fuck is all I need. Quick or slow—I don’t care. All I want is to come, scratch the itch, and then the man can go on his merry way.

Just one night is what I need.

One knot.

She nods. “Yeah. Alphas are happy to have sex with me. I just can’t keep one. My craziness put them off.” Her voice sounds so feeble and I feel bad for not listening.

“You’re not crazy and never change. The right pack will love everything about you,” I say, meaning every word. “They’ll love how you light up a room, how you make everyone smile. How you bring cookies to strangers and turn them into your family in five minutes flat.”

Freya’s eyes well up. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

She wraps me in another hug, this one gentler than before. “Thanks, Harlow. I’m going to love having you stay. In fact, I’m going to hate it when you leave. But I know you’re going to be such an amazing addition to whatever pack claims you.”

I open my mouth to correct her, to say I’m an alpha. Instead, I just hug her tighter as the memories of last night flood back.

Carver’s words…the way my body responded, how right he felt...how right his knot felt.

But I know I’m not an omega. I’m an alpha who has just discovered she loves a knot. That’s all.