18. Ben #3
“We got it,” Ember said firmly, and I loved her streak of independence. “We’ll ask for help if we need it.” She took a few more steps forward and then stopped. “Hi, two please,” she said brightly.
“Of course.” The ma?tre d’ sounded confused. “Uh, is there a specific table you’d like to accommodate your alpha?”
“One with a beautiful view,” I piped up. I couldn’t help myself.
Ember giggled. “Yes please, one with a view.”
“Of course, right this way.”
“I’m going to do the narrow passageway thing,” Ember said, putting her hand behind her back again. I moved my hand without thinking about it. “It’s a tight fit through.”
“No problem,” I said, walking a little closer than I should. “I’ll squeeze in with you any day.”
The restaurant didn’t sound too crowded, and the voices didn’t echo on the walls. I assumed the décor was muted with lots of thick carpet. I’d ask Ember later.
“Here we go,” the ma?tre d’ said and paused, probably wondering how I would know where to sit.
I held my hand up. “Put my hand on the back of the chair and let me know which way it’s facing.”
Ember took my hand and put it on a smooth wooden surface. “Uhh, it’s facing the table. Like, away from us.”
“I’m looking at the back of the chair?” I slid my hand forward and felt fabric on the seat. It felt like the back of the chair.
“Oh, yes, right. Sorry.”
“No sorries.” I moved to the side so I could sit down. My knees hit the table, and glasses tinkled together. “Whoops. Let’s skip the china shop next, okay, baby?”
“Tomorrow then.” Ember sounded amused, her voice coming to my left.
“Sir, we have a menu in Braille if you would like?” the ma?tre d’ asked. He had a thick, nasally voice, and I imagined a heavyset man with a red face. I pictured what people looked like from my earlier years of being able to partially see features and never got out of the habit.
“Really? That would be great, thank you.”
“Would you two care to start with anything to drink before your server gets here?”
“Coke, please,” Ember piped up.
“I’ll have one as well,” I said.
Soft footsteps moved to my left, and I assumed the ma?tre d’ left.
I felt around the table, seeing if they’d laid out plates ahead of the meal or not. I touched a soft tablecloth, and a water glass to my ten o’clock. A rolled bundle was silverware to my eight o’ clock.
“Thanks for talking me through that,” Ember said. “I know you could have done all that by yourself.”
I grinned. “Like I said, it was a nice excuse to touch you.”
“Hmm.” Her scent got a little stronger at that. “So you’re playing hooky from work?”
“I had a meeting,” I said defensively. “But yeah, basically. Rian’s recording all afternoon. What about you?”
A pause. “Basically. I have computer work to do but I can do it later when I get home. West can help.”
“And when do I get to meet West?” I asked, as footsteps got closer.
Sure enough, a voice came to my right. “Hello, my name is Adam and I’ll be your server for today. Here is the Braille menu.”
Then came the soft thud of something being set in front of me, and the server went into his routine about the specials of the day.
“Let me know if I can get you anything else,” Adam said. “Anything at all.”
I resisted the joke about new eyes. It was too easy.
I flipped open the menu and ran my fingertips over the lines of Braille. “I know I already looked up the menu on the way here, but I can’t pass up the chance to use a Braille menu. Must give these people props for accessibility options when I can.”
“I don’t know what I want. And I’d say we bring West lunch, since he works in San Francisco too, but he’s at home on remote work.”
“Drat,” I said. “Should have timed it better.”
“There’s always the future,” the omega said, but she didn’t sound as confident.
We placed our orders. Ember got a croque madame, a fancy French cheese and ham sandwich, and I ordered stuffed crepes with a fresh fruit salad.
“How did you get into music?” she asked and I could have reached over the table and kissed her.
This is what I was looking for when I went to Cosmic Bonds. She didn’t ignore my disability, but it wasn’t all she thought about. She asked about my job and passions.
“When I was nine, I got really into music.” I put my hand on the table, reaching for her hand before I remembered she wouldn’t know to put it in mine like Rian. “I started listening to the radio all the time, waiting for songs to come on so I could record them.”
“Record them? Why not just download them?”
“I just dated myself.” I laughed. “Back in the dark ages, my precious sweet omega, you had to wait for the radio DJ to play your song, and then you hit record on your cassette player.”
“Ohhh, so you’re old then,” Ember said, sounding awed. “I didn’t realize you were ancient.”
“Hey now.” I couldn’t stop another chuckle. “I’m thirty-five. Not that old.”
“Uh-huh, Gramps,” Ember said. “You got me by eleven years.”
I rubbed my face. “I’m not quite robbing the cradle.”
“You’re almost there,” she said brightly. “So back when you invented fire, you had to make your own mixtapes.”
“Exactly.” I took a sip of my Coke, taking the straw out. I didn’t like straws, at least the bendy kind. I could never trust them to stay in the same place. “After a few years of dealing with my mixtapes, my parents found a studio that would let me inside. It was like I found my home.”
I still remembered the incandescent feeling of walking into a studio, of being able to touch so many things.
The faders, the equalizers, it was like I was always meant to be there.
“I found out this was how music was made. Through recording voices, instruments, and then blending them all together. It was like magic.”
People passed our table, one of them an omega bringing the too-sweet scent of roses. The click of silverware on plates added to the audio cues of the restaurant.
Ember cleared her throat. “If I’m honest, I’m still fuzzy on what an audio engineer does outside of ‘make the song.’”
I touched the menu again, for something to do with my hands. “It’s okay. Most people don’t know either. Basically, when someone like Rian is singing or playing guitar in the studio, we record those tracks.”
“Right.” Her chair squeaked and I wondered if she fidgeted like Rian did.
The waiter came back and brought our food. After telling him, once again, we were super great, we kept talking. “An audio engineer takes those tracks and layers them together.”
“Ohhhhhhhh.” Her voice lit up with understanding. “You could do your own dubstep.”
Warmth bubbled up inside me. She was delightful, utterly delightful. “I can and do sometimes. Mostly we record artists and do some layering on their tracks. Make the song sound crisper, bring out the pitch of the singer’s voice, that sort of thing.”
Another group of people passed by the table, along with the same sickly-sweet rose scent. Ember growled.
I looked around, wondering what cue I’d missed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ember sounded disgruntled. “You went to college for audio engineering?”
“I did.” I strained my ears, trying to hear if someone was arguing. “I also learned to play the piano, the guitar very badly, and the theremin.”
“Ooooh, that’s the weird instrument Evermore West uses?” Ember sounded happy again. “That sort of haunting wail on ‘Echoes Afloat’ and ‘The Lantern Sea’?”
“That’s the one. I only need my hands to play it.”
“How did you—” Ember growled again, sounding possessive, and her scent got bitter.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she huffed. “I’m sitting right here , and this omega chick keeps making goo-goo eyes at you.”
Pleasure flushed over me. Not that some other omega was flirting, but that Ember sounded so possessive about it.
“It’s fine,” Ember said quickly. “She’ll get the hint.”
“Is that the rose scent?”
“Yes,” she muttered.
“Scoot your chair closer.” I gestured at myself, annoyed I didn’t check how much space was between us earlier.
“What?”
“Scoot over. It will be easier than me trying to figure out where you are.” I would get that ruffled-feathers tone out of her voice immediately.
Her bitter lemon scent moved closer with the scrape of a chair. “All right, I’m here.”
I reached out and touched her forearm. I had a decent idea where her face was, judging from the sound of her voice.
I moved my hand up her arm, feather-light, not trying to seduce but to find her in space.
I scented with pleasure that the bitterness left her scent quickly, and I touched her cheek.
I leaned forward, tilted her chin toward me.
I went slowly so I didn’t accidentally smash into her.
And also to give her a chance to tell me to back the hell off.
Soft skin and heat met my cheek, and I grazed my skin over hers. She sucked in a breath, tensing next to me, and her lemon scent bloomed.
I rubbed my cheek over hers again, making sure I really scent marked her, and then pulled away.
“Better?” My voice was husky, and it was all I could do not to find some dark room where I could scent mark her more. I’d make sure my scent was all over her, making it unmistakable that she was mine and I was hers.
“Yes,” she said, sounding pleased and confused. She picked up my hand. “Much.”
I stroked my thumb over the back of her hand. “Good.”
She scooted back, but only enough to give her room to eat, and we went back to talking about music.
She talked about her family, her job, and how she enjoyed matchmaking.
I tried not to pester her with questions, but it felt like every answer was another piece to anchor her closer to me, another part of the mystery.
By the end of lunch, I was determined to figure out how to make Rian more comfortable around her. Letting them circle each other like feral kittens was working, but now it was time to throw them both in a room together to show them they were compatible.