Page 15

THIRTEEN

Drinking a spiced rum pina colada, fresh coconut juice and an orange garnish.

My toes are in the sand, a book beside me as a smell as cleansing as the ocean breeze sweeps over me…

Hands and mouths travel over my body in unison, and I welcome it with glee as I follow the unforgettable sensation into a steady rhythm…

My eyes fly open as I sit up abruptly. I pull my traitorous hand out of my pajama shorts and look at it in betrayal.

“Not again!” I huff in exasperation. “Can’t you just quit it ?”

I grab my wrist and toss my hand around before trying to force what I was about to do out of my mind. Technically, what I was about to do again . For the tenth time.

I can’t get those scents out of my head.

All I have to do is conjure up the memory of it and my body starts to sing a feral song all by itself.

There’s shame mixed with the pleasure, as I forget these scents belong to strangers.

That’s not including Ciro but even then, he has not clarified openly that he wants to pursue me, so I still feel guilty all the same.

The beast inside of me demands retribution for my idiot idea of not meeting the men of those lovely scents. I’ve even refused to check in with Ciro to make another date, so my omega has done the only thing she can to obtain any control: became extremely horny and inconvenient.

The way Ciro held me and continued to speak praise of his pack mates. The way we whispered to each other gently over my favorite snacks. The mingled scents that surrounded us and made their living room feel like mine .

It’s all fucking crazy. I can’t process how my omega has become so delusional over alphas—and one very attractive beta—that she barely knows. I almost feel like fighting her if it were possible, really wringing her neck to get her head on straight. Our head on straight.

I force my hands above my head as I walk to my desk. What can I do to distract my shameful hands?

I pick up my latest read and open it to the latest chapter and widen my eyes at the explicit description of the female main character giving her two boyfriends a simultaneous blow job. I read the first few lines and then drop it on my desk.

Now I remember why I didn’t finish the scene last night. I was reading when suddenly the two boyfriends morphed into Ciro and an unknown face that had a coconut scent.

“You’ve even ruined reading for me, you monster,” I say to my reflection on the wall. I have swollen eye bags from my sleep being interrupted and my hair is in a sex-frenzy. I grab my brush to sort through the heavy knots.

Finally, an acceptable and innocent activity that I can do with my hands.

My omega suddenly pictures an attentive alpha brushing our hair for us.

We’ve got a deadline, and there’s not enough time to make ourselves look presentable.

He asks us to let him take care of us before taking the brush and gently caressing through the knots until our hair becomes smooth and silky once more.

I shake my head of the outlandish thoughts before throwing my brush across the room. Looks like there’s only one thing left to do to distract me from my crisis.

I sit down at my desk and pull out my textbook. It’s Friday, but maybe I’ll thank myself for getting ahead of my homework schedule. Especially because I loathe my astronomy class.

You’d think learning about space would seem straightforward and easy, but nope. There’s just so much information in such a short period of time, and not to mention the unexpected math.

I’m already lying my head on my textbook, bored out of my mind. I want to focus, but my omega wants to throw images of faceless men at me instead, which certainly appeals to me a lot more than whatever this chapter is about.

I sigh heavily before grabbing my phone. I hesitate and my forehead condensates with nerves as I click on the text chain with Ciro. I type a few different texts before sending one abruptly without double-checking.

“Shit.”

Stacia (5:57 pm) Hey! When’s the next hockey game? I was wondering if you’d like to hang out again.

I facepalm. That has to be the lamest text ever sent in the history of texting. I start to write more, and then another, until there’s a whole list of mistakes staring right at my face.

Stacia (5:58 pm) If you knew when the hockey game was, I meant! I had a lot of fun and I thought maybe we could do it again

Stacia (5:58 pm) But only if you want to

Stacia (5:59 pm) If you didn’t, I wouldn’t want to

Stacia (5:59 pm) I meant I wouldn’t want to force you to do something you wouldn’t want!

Stacia (6:00 pm) Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m really blowing this aren’t I?

I reread them and let out a ghastly shriek. I throw my phone at the bed, still in a state of horror at what I’ve done. Also, if I keep throwing things around, I won’t know where anything is.

I scowl at my hand yet again and point at it with my opposing finger. “I swear you have a mind of your own. Don’t you fucking play with me.” I sigh heavily and feel my forehead dramatically, feeling faint. “Why the fuck did I do that?”

I screech again when I hear a familiar chirp come from my phone across the room.

I stare in its general direction. Do I really want to voluntarily fuck up my night even more by seeing his response to my idiocracy?

I’ll hyper fixate on it and then blame myself for ruining what could have been if I just took two more seconds to read what I was sending.

But I’ll also hyper fixate on it if I don’t read it. If it’s insanely douchey, I can just leave him on read. Wait, do I even have my read-receipts on? I’m not sure.

Before I can decide, another chirp comes from the phone.

I stalk over slowly and pluck my phone from within the confines of my comforter.

I hold it to my chest, not daring to peek just yet.

He probably doesn’t want to see me anymore.

He’s probably realizing that every conversation we’ll ever have is going to be like pulling teeth: uncomfortable and waiting for it to be over.

Fuck, Stacia, just rip the fucking bandaid off!

I take a deep breath and turn my phone up from my chest. The words are blurry for a moment, but the second they clear I am gaping at his response.

Ciro (6:03 pm) You’re cute, you know that?

Ciro (6:05 pm) Their next game is tomorrow! Butttt we’re having our monthly game night tonight and would love if you joined us! Do you want to stop by?

I stare at the texts in disbelief. I was spiraling for no reason.

Story of my fucking life.

Then I start to feel a different type of panic. A panic that my omega is already fighting. If I accept, that means meeting this group of strangers that may or may not be my scent matches will happen tonight , and my body screams its unpreparedness.

Am I ready for that? When I reached out, I pictured another chill night with Ciro eating snacks and talking about his pack mates, not actually meeting them. Shit, I don’t even have time to really panic about it either.

I quickly text him back, agreeing and asking what time to meet. Before he responds, I fling my phone down and march out of my room on a mission.

And that mission: getting advice from my best friend.

I knock on her door, feeling frantic. When she finally calls out, I rush in and shut the door behind me like Ciro and his pack might hear our conversation.

Rory is on her bed with her notepad. Her laptop is open and paused on a movie scene. Some eighties classic that she probably has to study for class. When she looks up at me, she smirks teasingly.

“Are you finally going to tell me how your not -date went?”

I close my eyes harshly and blurt it out before I can convince myself not to.

“I think I met my scent matches.”

I hear silence, which probably means she’s staring at me.

With what emotion, I can’t be too sure, so I peek one eye open to see.

Her eyes are wide and her hand that’s holding her pencil is levitating right above the paper in a paused state.

I think I’ve just rendered Rory speechless for the first time since we met.

“What the fuck do I do?” I ask, emphasizing with my arms to show her the state I’m in. It breaks her out of the stupor she’s in long enough to see my genuine panic. She snaps her laptop shut, slides it to the side, and pats the now-empty spot beside her.

I sit and pull my knees to my chest.

“Tell me what happened. What do you mean you think ? Normally, it’s pretty obvious.”

I take a big breath. “I haven’t met his pack mates, and Ciro is a beta.”

“Oh, you’re talking about Ciro’s pack?” She grins widely. “Holy shit! I was right, it was totally a date.”

I smack her sternly on the shoulder. “ Focus! No one cares if you were right. I knew deep down it was a date, but that doesn’t mean I was expecting this !” I fly my hands around again.

“You’re still not explaining what happened,” Rory huffs. “Did it go okay at least?”

I nod as a small smile finds its way to my face before shaking the joy away. Gosh, even my face muscles are betraying me today.

“I guess it went really well,” Rory retorts, and I look up to see her dumb teasing expression.

“Shut up,” I say, trying to sound stern, but then I release the tension in my shoulders. “Yes. It was so fun. He got every snack on my list, and he told me all about his pack mates and their lives, and at the end we had a cuddle that I think might be the best cuddle I’ve ever been a part of.”

That’s not even an exaggeration.

“It’s just… their house.” I lean in and whisper, “ It smelled like them .”

Rory laughs. “Well, duh. They live there.”

“Be serious and help me, please!”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She still wears a grin like she wants to laugh. “So, are you positive? Maybe it was because there were a lot of scents at once. That can be overwhelming for anyone. And I know Ciro is a beta, but wouldn’t you know by his smell, too?”

I bite my lip gently, avoiding her gaze.

“What’s that look for? Stacia, have you been keeping stuff from me?”

“No!” I say too quickly, practically admitting my guilt. “I mean, maybe.”

“Are you saying you can smell Ciro?” She puts her hand over her mouth in shock, finally understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Yes,” I admit, rubbing my neck. “And he admitted he can smell me, too. And that he likes it. A lot. And then I smelled his pack mates in their house, and the scents nearly knocked me physically off my feet!” I place my face in my hands.

“Gosh, the pack mate that punched Derek smells like fucking coconuts , Rory!”

“Coconuts?”

“Ciro let me use his blanket and my omega wanted me to smuggle it home, but I had to put my foot down.”

Rory’s eyes widen even more.

“See! This is crazy. I’ve never met these men, and just their scents make my omega want to commit theft !”

She smiles at me before laughing slightly. “I don’t think he would have cared, Stacia.”

I huff at her before crossing my arms.

Her expression softens slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me before? It’s been almost a whole week. Have you just been stewing over this?”

“Amongst other things.”

She raises a dark eyebrow. “Other things?”

“Don’t ask. Just know that I have traitorous hormones. That, or I’m going through a second unexpected puberty.”

Rory’s face blanches. “I hope I never meet my scent matches. That’s my worst nightmare.”

“Well, I’m fucking living it!” I stand up abruptly, no longer feeling calm enough to sit. Rory speaks up again as I pace.

“So… I’m guessing you’re not in denial anymore.”

I shrug gently. “I’ve been so confused. And it’s been barely a month since I broke up with Derek?—”

“Hey, his name is dickwad in this house. I made it a rule, remember? I let you get away with it the first time, but no more.”

I roll my eyes at her before continuing. “I’m not… built for a pack, remember? When it was just Ciro asking me on a date… sure, I could rip the bandaid off. But a whole pack ?” I shake my head. “I’m not ready for something like that. Don’t scent matches normally move at a ridiculously fast rate?”

Rory grabs my arm as I’m pacing by and tugs me back to a seated position.

“I think that’s a superstition. You get to move at whatever pace you feel most comfortable.

I’m sure, if these guys are really your scent matches, that they will want to give you whatever you want. You just have to ask for it, okay?”

I see the confidence and reassurance on her face and nod softly.

I consciously know these things are true, but something deep inside me wants to render its ugly head: the part that’s full of all the negative things once said to me.

Whether they came from my parents or Derek, they all blend in that crevice of my brain and form a very convincing voice.

“And Stacia? I’m so fucking happy you might have found your scent matches.

I know it’s scary, but you haven’t been happy in a relationship in a long time.

It’s only been a few weeks, sure, but we both know it was over a lot longer than that.

You deserve to find your happiness, and this could be it.

Don’t jump ship before you’ve even been able to enjoy the coconuts. ”

I look over at her face, which is about to break out into giggles. I try to stay strong, but her amusement pulls out my own. We break out into a mutual laughter.

“That was low,” I tease, poking her in the shoulder.

“I couldn’t help it.” Her giggles fade out. “The rest was sincere, though. I love you, and I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of, and we both know that includes a pack.”

Yes, we do. I’ve let myself push that dream away for so long now, I still don’t wholeheartedly believe I deserve it. But I believe Rory when she says I should try. It’s the least I can do.