Page 50 of They Love Me Knot (Starsfalls Omegaverse #2)

Daphne

T earing paper is the only sound in the empty store, followed closely by cursing as my furious erasing rips through my sketch.

I stop myself from shredding the rest of it, taking a deep breath and looking at it objectively to determine if this design should be salvaged.

I hold the paper at different angles to see if the honeysuckle and Dendrobium orchids look good together, but I’m still not sure.

With a sigh, I add it to the growing stack of failed plans beside me.

The Flowerfalls Festival is just a few weeks away, and I haven’t come up with one arrangement that I love or even kind of like. None of my sketches look right.

Drafts don’t always end up looking like the actual arrangement, so I might like some of these if I created them, but I’d rather have a few good ideas first.

I sharpen my pencil in disgust.

Things aren’t coming together right at work, and that just reminds me of my personal life .

Sure, most of my dates went well, and I should focus on that, but of course the one small minor little setback is all I can think about.

Why should I waste time thinking about some alpha who’s hot and cold. Well, he’s been mostly cold, even though he acts hot. Or hot headed. Or he’s attractive. I don’t know, Ciro is something. Whatever it is, he both attracts and confuses me.

The pencil snaps in half. I drop the pointy end and start sharpening the half with the eraser, twisting hard.

I have four great guys who are very into me. They were so attentive and considerate during our dates, and not just when we were fucking, and they’ve continued to be so. Feliks, Sterling, Kieran, and Alister have been texting me and sending me food deliveries over the past few days.

Alister even tried to take me to the doctor to have my neck and feet looked at, but I was able to convince him that was unnecessary.

My feet are fine, barely scratched, and there’s no reason to have a doctor look at the bite mark.

I can’t feel Ciro at all, no matter how hard I’ve tried, so it’s not like we have a partial bond that could cause issues.

Alister contented himself with sending me food for every meal, with snacks in between, so I could rest up. My other dates did the same without even knowing about my scrapes, so I spent the rest of the weekend well stuffed even when I was alone.

There are only a couple of pinpricks on my neck anyway. Still, I don’t want to explain that the bite is from a failed bonding, hence, my ascot.

I touch my neck to make sure it’s still covering Ciro’s bite, adjusting the knot so the ends are fluffed up.

Every time I touch it, I feel a pang of regret. It may be messed up, but I’m flattered that Ciro lost control of his alpha and wanted me so badly he tried to bond me. And on our first date. The thought of it still makes me tingle.

Definitely messed up.

As unpredictable as Ciro is, my omega is still obsessed with him. I think she’s been obsessed since we first ran into him. Even when he felt me up and accused me of stealing, she was ready to let him search anywhere he wanted for stolen goods. Or help him smuggle his own goods.

I shake my head. Now’s not the time to be getting horny, especially not for the one guy whose affection I’m unsure of.

I want the bites of my other alphas too, and I want to bite Feliks, but since I already have their attention, my omega is hyper-focused on attracting our one reluctant beau.

My phone dings, and I open it to a text from Sterling asking how my day is going. I smile as I reply, telling him it’s going great and I’m working on my festival plans.

Somehow in the time it took me to read his message, my frustration eased, and now my day is going great?

I haven’t made any progress at work, but one text from Sterling is enough to make me feel like everything is going to be okay.

I put my phone down with a sigh and lean back to stretch.

Stressing about the festival and Ciro isn’t going to get me anywhere.

I haven’t heard from him since he apologized and left me in the woods with Alister anyway. Alister claims Ciro feels so bad about what happened that he can’t bring himself to talk to me, and he’s very sorry about what he did.

I told Alister to tell Ciro that I’m not mad about it, things happen, and our instincts get the best of us sometimes. There was no harm done, and I had a good time.

It’s all very high school. Once again, my dating life is stunted.

I pull a fresh, blank piece of paper in front of me and stare at it blankly.

Blank.

Empty.

Vacantly blanketed in nothingness.

I feel my stress rising again and barely hold in a whine.

Poppy arrives, saving me from my existential crisis, worrying that I’ve used up all the creativity in my body and I’ll never be able to come up with any new or good ideas ever again.

I jump up and greet her cheerfully, “Hey Poppy! How’s it going? Did you have a good lunch break? What’d you eat? Was it good?”

“Someone’s talkative today,” she says with a smile, taking my barrage of questions in stride.

“It’s been a quiet morning. Haven’t had much social interaction.”

She laughs. “That’s true, it’s been pretty quiet since we got through the promposal orders. Gives us time to focus on the festival.”

I wince, looking down at my still blank, empty, bare piece of paper.

She clearly didn’t get my mental memo that I’m trying to distract myself from my problems, so we should avoid talking about the festival.

“What’s wrong?” Poppy asks, her eagle eyes noticing my subtle sign of distress.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” I say, nudging the corner of my paper, like having it at a right angle to the table will somehow help me come up with a plan.

Poppy picks up my stack of failure, flipping through the designs.

“These are amazing! Are they for the festival?”

“I don’t think I’ll use any of those, but I am trying to come up with festival arrangements.”

She holds up the one with the wormwood flowers dangling at the ends, the center filled with red carnations.

“This one is fun, why don’t you want to use it? The height differences would really stand out at the fair.”

I squint at it. It’s not bad now that I look at it again, but it’s still not quite right.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I like the way the scents would mix together…” I say hesitantly, still struggling to figure out what’s wrong with it.

I sigh forlornly and look down, wiping eraser shavings off the table.

“You need inspiration,” Poppy says.

I look at her hopefully. “I do?”

Does she know how to inspire flower wisdom? I certainly don’t. I thought sex was one of the best ways to clear your mind and let creativity flow, but after everyone I did this weekend, my mind still isn’t any more productive.

“That’s right. And you know what’s the best way to get inspired?” Poppy asks excitedly.

“What?” I say with just as much excitement, her enthusiasm infectious.

“Intense, in-depth research!”

“Oh.”

I slump back in my chair.

We clearly have different ideas about what should be cause for excitement .

Poppy laughs at me.

“Research is good for the mind. Besides, I thought you said you enjoyed reading, especially about flowers.”

“I do, but I’ve already read most of the floral books out there. I don’t think looking at the same things again will inspire anything new when I have a creative block.”

I have so many books on flowers and plants and floriography at home, but just thinking about reading them for the hundredth time is making my mental block even taller and thicker, more impenetrable.

“Have you seen the selection at Pen and Tellem?”

“Well, no. I haven’t had time to go over there yet,” I hedge.

“They have huge sections of unique and antique books, things you can’t find in many other places.

You could see if any of them catch your eye.

And if not, you could read some historical romances.

I’ve read lots of those where the royal ladies use flowers to send messages and the lords give flowers to their lovers.

There’s a lot to be inspired by there,” Poppy says wistfully.

The thought of rare books perks me up. I love learning new things about flowers, so if there’s a book I haven’t read, I have to find it.

“That’s not a bad idea,” I concede, already thinking about how many hours are left until I get off work and calculating how much money I have to splurge on books.

Poppy must notice my scheming face.

“You can probably go now. I don’t think we’ll get slammed with customers this afternoon, and the research counts as work anyway.”

“I guess I could ask Anicka if I can take an early day.”

I don’t need to get paid to browse a bookstore. I’d do that for free anytime .

Poppy drags me to the back to find Anicka.

“Daphne needs to go to Pen and Tellem and get some books for her fair designs. We’ve been slow today, so I can watch the front while she’s out,” Poppy says before I can get a word in.

“That’s a great idea. We should be fine here without you, feel free to stay at the bookstore for the rest of the day,” Anicka says.

“If you’re sure you don’t need me…” I say.

They wave me off, and I hasten to the bookshop.