Page 6

five

. . .

Mia

“ M ia, what’s going on over there?! You still have two tables to bus, and we have a packed house,” my manager, Alice, calls out.

I look up from the table I’ve been vacantly wiping down for the last ten minutes. My thoughts have sucked me under, and I’m drowning in anxiety.

After what happened the other night, it became clear to me that I need to end things with Justin, regardless of what he says or does now. He’s trying to pretend he never hit me, as if I somehow never believed he would actually do it.

Now, I see him for who he really is. My face still hurts, and the bruise looks like it’ll never fade. I had to put on a lot of makeup this morning.

But makeup can only cover up so much, and my manager asked about it this morning, pity evident on her face. Even when I brushed it off as an accidental injury, I heard my coworkers whispering about it in the break room.

It’s exhausting being the topic of gossip for the week.

Standing up from the table, I toss the rag into the bin and carry it toward the counter. On the way to the counter, I see him.

He was here the other day with a friend, but this time he’s alone.

The man is wiry and muscular, with a quiet strength in how he holds himself. His long black hair is carefully mussed, hanging over one eye. His sharp, striking features catch me off guard. He’s attractive in an almost unattainable way.

Probably a wealthy businessman on vacation. I suddenly realize he’s sitting at a table in my section.

I make my way over to him, a feeling of anticipation shivering up my spine. As I draw closer, the customer looks up from his paperback, curiosity in his eyes. Something about his gaze catches me off guard.

His eyes seem to glimmer, and the gold specks in the green seem to dance before shifting to silver.

But that’s ridiculous. It’s just the lack of sleep playing tricks on my mind.

“Hello, sir. What can I get for you?” I ask uncertainly.

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a semblance of a smile.

“Just a cup of black coffee. No sugar. And…” He traces his finger along the menu. “A piece of lemon cake.”

I quickly jot down the order, but hesitate before walking away. There’s something about his presence that keeps me momentarily rooted to the spot, and every nerve in my body seems to come alive.

“Name?”

“Finn. Thank you,” he replies, his smile widening slightly. Again, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something strange about his eyes. “Is something wrong, Mia?”

I smile nervously. “Sorry, I’ll go put in your order. It should be out shortly. ”

As I walk away, I can feel his eyes on my back, watching me leave. It’s unnerving, yet oddly familiar.

At that moment, a customer turns directly into my path.

I try to slow my steps, but it’s too late. We collide, and his iced coffee splashes down my sweater, dripping onto the floor. The sound of the mug hitting the ground and shattering makes me wince.

Richard Ellicot is a professor at the college next to the café and is well known for his ill temper. His gaze shifts from his fallen drink to my already flushed face, and his expression darkens.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he snaps. “I hope you know that I am not paying for my replacement drink, and I expect to be refunded for this one. The absolute inadequacy.”

I shrink under his complaints and shouts. Tears spring to my eyes, and I try to fight them back. “I’m sorry. I’ll get this cleaned up, and my manager will make you another drink.”

“I should hope so!” He huffs before storming off.

Sighing, I accept a rag from my nearby coworker and kneel to start cleaning up the coffee and shattered mug. The brown liquid swirls on the linoleum, and the broken pieces of the mug clatter together.

“Here, let me help,” a rough voice says.

I look up to find Finn, the stranger who had just ordered. His face is pinched with concern as he quickly picks up the broken mug.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to…”

“It’s okay. Everyone needs some help sometimes,” he responds quickly, and his expression somehow soothes me despite its intensity. His whole demeanor is calm and steady, making me feel less shaken up.

For a moment, we work in silence, cleaning up the mess. I watch his muscular hands pluck the pieces of the broken mug off the ground, tossing them into a bussing bin one at a time. His motions are self-assured and steady.

The way he works is methodical and almost hypnotizing.

When we finish, Finn looks up at me with a piercing gaze that leaves me somewhat unsettled.

“You shouldn’t let others speak to you with such disrespect,” he says, wiping up the rest of the mess with a rag.

The unexpected advice surprises me. Honestly, this whole encounter has been strange. I didn’t expect the intense stranger to be so kind, and it leaves me feeling flustered.

Ding!

I jump, startled. But it’s just my cell phone in my apron pocket. That’s strange; I always put my phone on Do Not Disturb at the start of my shift. If a message went through, someone must have marked it as urgent.

Pulling out my phone, I see the message on the front screen.

Justin

You need to come home right now.

A wave of nervous nausea washes over me as I stare at the words. Even though he’s been giving me the silent treatment all morning, even after mocking me in bed last night, he still expects me to come home to him.

How the hell am I supposed to pay rent when he expects me to drop everything and run to him whenever he texts? The frustration and sadness make me realize I have to break up with Justin, or I’ll lose my mind.

Of course, that would mean being alone, for real this time. No safety net. No one to turn to. The thought fills me with both relief and terror.

Change, no matter how right, is so damn hard.

I swallow past a lump in my throat and wipe at my eyes, unwilling to let the tears fall.

“Alice, I’m going to take my fifteen now,” I say, my voice wobbly.

Without waiting for a response, I shove my phone into my pocket and head for the back door. As soon as I’m outside, I breathe in the icy air and finally let my tears flow. The hot tears stream down my chilled cheeks, dripping off my chin.

“Are you alright?”

I wipe my nose and turn to find Finn. The customer who helped clean the mess. In my books, he’s automatically a good man for doing that. He gazes at me with genuine concern.

“Yes. No. I—I don’t know,” I manage, another sob tearing through me as he approaches.

Finn takes another step forward. “Can I hug you?”

His offer takes me by surprise, as does my willingness to consider it. Normally, I would never consider a hug from a random customer.

But I feel so alone, and he somehow seems... comforting.

I nod, and he folds me into his strong arms. The warmth of the hug seeps into me, and I relax in the embrace. There’s a scent emanating from him, something like a smoky campfire- but I can’t quite place it.

It feels almost familiar, and I find myself strangely comforted by his scent.

Color rises to my cheeks when I realize Finn’s hard erection is pressing against me. Yet he doesn’t seem to be trying to sexualize the hug. Instead, it almost feels... protective.

Feeling guilty, I quickly pull away, but I can’t deny a stab of disappointment at the loss of his warmth.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he replies, his voice a deep rumble. “Why were you crying?”

“It’s complicated. Boyfriend problems,” I whisper, and he has a knowing look in his eyes. “Thank you again for your support.”

My face flushes, and I offer a small smile before turning away to get back to work.

After explaining to a very frustrated Alice that I need to head home, I gather my things and step out into the cold once more.

I take a deep breath after leaving the cafe. Finn had been watching me all day from his chair. And he’s still watching as I leave the cafe, coat in hand.

His gaze is intense, and I shiver, though it isn’t entirely unpleasant. Maybe he’s some kind of serial killer, and I need to carry pepper spray. I’ve always heard serial killers were charming on the outside.

The walk home isn’t terrible.

The cool air makes it almost easier to breathe despite my anxiety about the impending breakup. I make it back to the apartment without incident.

Walking into the apartment, I’m surprised to see that Justin isn’t on the couch. I call out for him a few times, but the space is small, and I can already tell he isn’t here.

Odd . He seemed so urgent in his text. I had planned what to say to him the whole way home. I want to discuss our relationship and see if he’s willing to change or if I need to leave.

“Justin?” I call one last time, stepping into the bedroom. But as expected, he’s not there either.

My phone slips from my hand, hitting the floor with a soft thump. I curse softly and bend down to pick it up, praying that it’s not broken. Phones are expensive, and rent is due soon.

As I reach for the phone, something catches my attention. There’s a red T-shirt crumpled in a heap underneath the bed. Is it one of Justin’s?

When I lift it, though, it doesn’t smell like him at all. A new scent, reminiscent of cinnamon, bursts from the fabric, and I inhale deeply.

This smells nothing like Justin’s gross aftershave.

Every inch of my body is aroused as I inhale this strange shirt. I don’t understand it. It’s like my body has an immediate, visceral reaction to this smell.

My breath catches in my throat as my heart races. I press my legs together, desperate for some friction against my pussy.

It’s almost like a bolt of electricity traveling through me, the arousal strong and undeniable.

Clutching the shirt in one hand, I ease onto the bed.

In a few swift motions, I remove my jeans, discovering that my panties are already soaked. Bringing the shirt to my nose, I inhale deeply until I can’t take it anymore.

I trace small circles around my swollen clit at first. My pussy throbs with need. A small moan escapes me as I start stroking the area harder. My thoughts drift to the stranger in the café today. The way his erection pressed against me. The warmth that felt like home.

Jace

“Fuck,” I groan, watching Mia clutch my shirt as she masturbates alone in her room. She can’t see me or Finn watching her through the window. “I’m so fucking glad I left my shift for her.”

Meanwhile, Mia traces her fingers along the lips of her pussy, glistening with desire. Her eyes are heavily lidded as her hand glides through the wet folds. Her motions become more frantic as she approaches release. She is desperate for this.

I wonder idly what’s running through her mind as she inhales the scent of my shirt. What fantasies are driving her so close to the edge?

Whatever she’s fantasizing, I swell with pride that it’s my scent that’s brought her to this.

“Lucky bastard,” Finn mutters under his breath, his eyes dark. “I wish that was my shirt I left for her. I’ve been watching her all day at the café.”

“Hmm, we’re so close to making her ours,” I whisper, my eyes never leaving Mia as she savors my scent.

My heart beats wildly, and I fight the urge to open the window and go to her. Our omega. Because that’s what she is.

If there were any doubts before, they are completely erased.

A moan escapes Mia’s lips as she nears the edge of ecstasy. I feel my erection pressing against the front of my jeans, and it takes everything in me not to come undone right here.

Sweat trickles down her neck and slides into the collar of her top. Her breasts heave against the thin fabric, her nipples hard with arousal.

I can tell she’s getting close to climaxing. Finn and I wait with bated breath, ready to experience this moment with her.

“Mia?” The door to the bedroom slams open, and Justin enters.

Mia immediately stops touching herself, her flushed face lighting up with surprise. She throws the shirt to the floor and closes her legs. At that moment, I realize... she is scared of him. Despite her attachment, there’s a part of her that fears his disapproval. And I hate it.

Disappointment and frustration boil over, and I stifle a growl. I had almost forgotten about this worthless man’s existence.

“This guy is a total asshole,” Finn says, disgust etched on his face. “He couldn’t even let her finish.”

“Yeah, but unfortunately, she seems pretty attached to him,” I respond.

“I don’t know, man,” Finn says with a wicked smile. “If she’s so attached, why is she masturbating while smelling your shirt?”