Chapter 20 #2
Warmth spreads in my chest when he intuitively understands I’m conflicted about our scent bond, and adjusts his behavior to make me more comfortable, just like he said he wants to. Who even is this man? He doesn’t seem real.
Camille: That sounds really nice. And the same goes for you and your pack. I want everyone else to be happy and comfortable, too.
Over a minute goes by with no response, and I grow concerned I said something wrong. Even though I can’t for the life of me think of what would’ve been offensive.
Is Ambrose having second thoughts about courting me? Has he realized he might jeopardize his pack’s comfort and happiness by trying to include me?
Finally, he sends a reply.
Ambrose: Knowing that you’re worried even a little about our pack’s comfort means so much to me. To us. Another sign we’ll be a good fit.
Oh. That’s definitely not wanting to call things off.
There’s more going on behind his words, but it’s not my place to pry. I should probably find out some more basic things about him before I dive in to deeper subjects.
I’m not sure how to reply. My omega wants me to echo his sentiment and tell him we’re perfect for each other, but I can’t be that reckless. I need to meet the full pack and get through our first date before I make any kind of assessment.
Camille: I hope so. I should probably get back to work, unless you have any other questions.
Ambrose: I want to know everything about you, but I’ll save the rest of my questions for tonight.
A few moments later, he sends another text.
Ambrose: Wait, I almost forgot. What do you like for dessert?
Ambrose: It’s a miracle I remembered to ask. The closer I get to fifty, the more likely I am to forget something if I don’t write it down.
Camille: Don’t tell me that! My memory is already bad enough.
Ambrose: Haha sorry.
Ambrose: I hope I don’t sound like an old man now.
I’d say I’m still young at heart, but to be honest, I’m not.
I like my comforts and the wisdom I’ve gained over the years.
If you want to go out and hit the clubs, Jackson would be a better date.
He’s the only one of us social enough to make that fun.
I smile at his admission.
Camille: Before the other night, my last time going out to a bar was over a year ago. So there’s no expectation there. Though, seeing how Jackson dances might be fun.
Dammit, I really shouldn’t let myself think about future dates. Or allow my omega to fantasize about the buff beta doing a full-on strip tease. If anyone has the body and confidence to pull that off, it’s him.
I shake the image out of my head and force myself to focus back on Ambrose’s question.
Camille: I can bring dessert! I’d like to contribute.
Ambrose: Sweetheart, if I had my way, you’d be dessert.
Oh wow. And he said he didn’t know how to flirt.
Overheated, I undo a few buttons of my blouse and fan myself.
Ambrose: But my mate specifically asked that I find out what you like, since he might not make it home in time for dinner.
Camille: Ah, okay. In that case, I’m not picky at all. Any kind of sweet baked good would be perfect. Maybe something chocolate-y?
Ambrose: Perfect. I’m sure he can work with that.
Camille: Can I at least bring some wine?
I know they invited me over, but it seems wrong to go empty-handed to my first meeting with his pack.
Though, as soon as I offer, I remember I know next to nothing about wine. Shit.
I’ll have to ask Astrid for suggestions if they’re wine guys. Which means I’ll have to tell her about my date.
Not that I don’t want Astrid to know, but I was hoping to see how the night went before getting anyone’s hopes up about this. And Astrid will absolutely get her hopes up when she hears that I found my scent match, and he’s a sexy doctor with a pack that’s eager to court me.
Ambrose: Wine would be lovely. We’re not picky, so whatever you want to get will be great.
Whew, okay. Crisis averted.
Camille: Alright! See you at 6?
Ambrose: Yes, I can’t wait. See you soon, Camille.
I set my phone down, closing my eyes to let out a shaky exhale. A sharp rap on my door startles them back open and I look over to see my annoying coworker, Holden, hovering in the doorway.
“Taking a nap on the job?” he asks with a snide grin, pushing a hand through his messy blonde waves.
I shake my head and give him a tight smile. “Nope. Just needed to clear my head for a moment.”
“Hmm…” The alpha crosses his arms over his chest, no doubt trying to make his biceps look bigger in his too-tight shirt, and gives me an assessing look. His eyes linger on my chest, and I realize when I unbuttoned my shirt, it exposed a lot more cleavage than I normally do.
Holden smirks and shifts closer, uncrossing his arms so he can lean on the edge of my desk. “You know, I can think of a few ways to help you get out of your head. I’m free after work, if you want me to show you.”
My usual reaction would be to laugh off his less than subtle proposition and tell him I’m fine without his “help”. To my horror and embarrassment, that’s not what happens.
I shrink back in my chair, eyes going wide with fear as my omega panics at the mere suggestion of this alpha putting his hands on me. The man I saw as a harmless douche before I revealed is now a threat, his body too close to mine, blocking me in, keeping me trapped with him in my office.
I struggle to breathe, my eyes darting to the hallway in the hopes that someone will walk by and look in and save me.
“N-no thanks.” Fuck, I hate how weak my voice sounds.
Holden scoffs at my reaction and steps back. “Jeez, Camille, learn to take a joke. I wasn’t serious. You’re way too old for me, anyway.”
I should call him out on his bullshit, because I know he’s only a year younger than me. Or calmly threaten to tell HR he’s harassing me. But I can’t get the words out. I’m still choked by my omega’s overblown reaction. Held hostage by an instinct I don’t know how to fight.
I look back at my monitor and pretend to start working, praying he’ll leave. My hands shake as I rest them against the keyboard, my eyes burning with unshed tears of frustration and illogical fear.
I feel Holden’s eyes burning into me for a long moment before he huffs and leaves. I sag against my desk, the tension in my body finally releasing now that I’m alone.
What the fuck was that?
Just when I thought listening to my omega might be alright, she hijacks me and turns me into a cowering mess over a skeevy alpha. I can’t fall to pieces because something rubs her the wrong way.
How the fuck am I supposed to do my job if that keeps happening?
How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?
Any excitement I had for letting go and giving my omega some space to explore things with Ambrose and his pack has soured. No more listening to instincts, because clearly they are broken. I need to figure out how to lock my omega away before she ruins my life.