Cassidy
My phone buzzes against the desk again, and I glance down just in time to see another message appear.
Isaac
And now I have your number.
So I won’t need to panic that you’re hiding from me so you don’t need to be my friend.
A startled laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
“I’m not going to avoid you,” I argue weakly, even though I probably would at some point. “I’m glad we’re… friends.”
He deserves a better friend than me.
Isaac leans back in the chair he’s claimed with a smug grin.
“Shortcake, you look one inconvenience away from climbing into the vents to avoid seeing me.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
“That’s dramatic.”
“It’s accurate.”
I bite back another smile, shaking my head as I stand from my desk. My office suddenly feels far smaller than it did earlier, the air warmer from having another person inside it for so long.
Or maybe that’s just Isaac.
“I should probably go,” I murmur reluctantly, glancing towards the clock. “I’ve got a meeting with Harlan soon.”
Isaac grimaces sympathetically. “My condolences.”
A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it.
The sound seems to catch him off guard slightly, his expression softening for half a second before he stands, too.
“Hey.” His voice gentles. “You know you can text me if you need something, right?”
The offer hits harder than it should.
Because people say things like that all the time without meaning them.
Because I’m still not entirely convinced Isaac actually wants to spend time with me rather than simply feeling responsible for the office omega one mild inconvenience away from a breakdown.
Still, I nod carefully. “Okay.”
“We’re friends, Cassie,” he says easily, like the word doesn’t feel terrifyingly fragile. “Friends help each other.”
Something twists painfully in my chest.
Friends.
Right.
I force myself to move before I can overthink it further, reaching for the scent neutraliser spray beside my laptop.
“Oh! Sorry, one second.” I quickly mist the air around us both. “Harlan doesn’t… it doesn’t matter.”
Isaac frowns. “No, what were you going to say? Harlan doesn’t what? Let you be yourself?”
I flinch and rapidly shake my head. “No, of course not. He just struggles being around me when I’m… you know. It’s easier for us both if I… cover up.”
He nods, but there’s an almost angry expression on his face. I spray myself again, paying extra attention to my scent glands.
Isaac immediately lifts his arms obediently, already angling his wrists and throat towards the spray before raising a brow when I don’t move. I laugh and spray him, too.
“There. You no longer smell like a pathetic omega,” I mumble.
He looks deeply offended. “I’ll have you know I smelt amazing—not pathetic, just sweet. Ev probably would’ve tried eating me alive.”
Despite myself, I laugh again.
“Thank you for the company,” I murmur, closing my office door behind us.
Isaac grins down at me, and another flutter of butterflies dances across my stomach.
I have issues. Literal issues.
Isaac is sweet, kind, generous… he’s been honest and supportive, and extremely loyal to Evander, his boss.
Isaac falls into step beside me easily as we head down the corridor, like walking together is already something familiar.
Which is ridiculous. I’ve barely known him any time at all and shouldn’t feel comfortable around him.
“So,” he says casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Am I allowed to text you ridiculous things now, or is this a strictly professional friendship?”
I glance up at him warily. “There are professional friendships?”
“Absolutely. Mine and Ev’s is deeply professional.” He waggles his brows.
I burst into giggles. “Sure.”
“We only insult each other during business hours.” He hums and winks at me. “However, those business hours do typically extend to twenty hours a day, so maybe not.”
Warmth unfurls low in my chest, my shoulders loosening slightly around him. It’s easy talking to Isaac.
Dangerously easy.
My stomach twists, and a cold wave of anxiety washes over me.
People don’t usually stay once they realise how much effort being around me takes.
Especially not kind people. Nice people. The people you want around.
People like Isaac.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” he says gently.
I force myself to smile. “Sorry.”
“No apologising.” He lightly bumps my shoulder with his arm. “Friends, remember?”
The word lands heavily again. Friends.
Real ones probably didn’t spend every conversation waiting for the other person to realise they’d made a mistake.
As Isaac and I walk up the corridor, a familiar burn prickles across the back of my head, and I turn.
Dark brown eyes are trained on me as he stands at the end of the corridor, an unmovable force of possessive observation.
It’s becoming quite freaky now, how often I spot him, and how often he’s just… watching me.
“Whoa, why have you stopped, shortcake?” Isaac asks, turning around with raised brows.
I shake my head, giving him a fake smile.
“Sorry. I just got lost in a daze,” I murmur, and he laughs.
It’s a husky sound, one that sends goosebumps coating all of my bare skin.
We turn the corner, and I look down towards the end again, unsurprised to see Silas still standing there.
Even from here, there’s an intensity surrounding him that I can’t ignore.
One that makes it clear he’s displeased.
And somehow, I know it’s because of me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Isaac says softly as we reach the bull pen close to Harlan’s office.
“Only if you—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Ah, ah, ah, you don’t need to worry about my schedule,” he says gently. “We’re friends, Cassie, and friends make time for each other. I’ll bring you lunch, and we can just… talk, okay?”
I flush, looking down at my feet before nodding carefully. He rewards me with a dazzling grin and reaches down to hug me quickly.
I gasp, barely managing to relax, before he lets go and steps back.
Nobody should feel this safe after one hug or settle this quickly against an unfamiliar beta.
“Talk soon, shortcake,” he says before walking out of the bullpen with long strides.
The back of his neck and his ears are red.
I’ll have to make sure we have the air con on tomorrow so I don’t make him sit in an uncomfortable overheated room again.
If we really are going to be friends, then I want to make sure not to ruin it.
I watch Isaac disappear around the corner before forcing myself to inhale slowly.
Friends.
The word still feels fragile enough to shatter in my hands.
I smooth my palms down the front of my skirt, trying to settle the nervous energy fizzing beneath my skin before I have to see Harlan.
Isaac is tomorrow’s problem. Tomorrow’s… blessing?
I have no idea. I don’t think I can feel that way about another person yet—not when Evander’s still pressing down on me.
Tomorrow.
I’ll deal with tomorrow… tomorrow.
The corridor feels too quiet after all of Isaac’s warmth and easy calm. I lean against the wall for support as I try to gather myself for a minute before facing Harlan.
I adjust the notebooks in my arm, and panic fills me when I realise I forgot my laptop.
Normally, I prefer using paper and pen, but after my telling off from Harlan, I don’t dare to come to his office without my laptop again.
“Oh, no,” I gasp, looking down at my watch, realising I have less than five minutes to get my laptop and make it in time for my meeting with Harlan.
“I’m an idiot,” I mutter, turning on my heel and darting back down the corridor Isaac and I just left.
I’m extremely grateful Silas is gone so he can’t report to his friend—my boss—how much of an idiot I am.
I grab my laptop from the side table and lock my door again, before retaking the same route.
It’s an embarrassing thing to admit, but as I turn the corner, I bump into someone.
Again.
“It feels like fate, hm,” a familiarly unwelcome voice teases.
I flinch, looking up into the forest green eyes of Evander Whitmore.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper.
He grins. “Don’t be sorry, little daisy. I was coming to hunt for Isaac, as he’s been gone for a while.”
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, gesturing to the other corridor. “He left a few minutes ago. I didn’t mean to steal him for so long.”
Evander shrugs, a confident smile on his face. “It’s fine. He can always work late to catch up.”
My face drops. So now, not only have I forced myself onto Isaac and made him bring me lunch tomorrow out of pity, now I’m the reason he has to work late?
Oh, my gosh.
He’s going to hate me.
Truly, absolutely hate me.
“Is there anything I can do to help so he doesn’t need to work late?” I offer.
Evander’s gaze darkens. “No, there’s not. I think for the time being, daisy, you should worry about your work, and not Isaac’s, okay?”
The admonishment hits hard, and I nod.
“Did you get my flowers?” he asks, changing the subject with an ease that I don’t possess.
“Um, yes. But, Evander, you don’t—”
“Van, please.”
“Van, you don’t need to get me flowers,” I say softly. “I appreciate the thought, but we’re just… not suited, okay? Gifts won’t change that.”
He frowns. “So, you don’t like them?”
“I mean, I do,” I lie, giving him a tense smile. “I’ll be stopping by the florists after work to get the things to look after them properly and keep them alive for a while.”
He nods. “Good job. So then, you’ll be able to enjoy them for longer.”
More like so I don’t feel guilt about being the reason so many flowers have lost their lives.
“Sure. But, Van, I’m not… you don’t need to waste your time getting things like this for me, you know? I’m so busy that—”
“What does you being busy have to do with a gift?”
“I’m just… I’ve had to reschedule to now make sure I can prepare for these and need to figure out how to get them into the house without my dad having a reaction, and—”
He snarls, and I freeze. “You’re embarrassed of me?”
I’m so confused. It feels like we’re having two different conversations, and I’m not following either properly.
“I’m not embarrassed of you,” I say quickly because he looks genuinely angry now. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then explain it to me.”
His voice drops lower. Calmer somehow, which is infinitely worse.