Chapter 4
The hiss of the can opening barely registers before I put the beer to my lips. I’ve been sitting on the dock ever since I got back to my house, hoping the familiarity would help clear my head.
Scent match. That idiot in the pavement princess is my scent match.
Like most omegas, I dreamed of finding my scent matched pack when I was younger. The whole thing just seemed so romantic. A person or people who were made exactly for you? Swoon.
But now that I’m approaching thirty-three, it seems more like a pipe dream. And I was fine with that, truly. I love living on Lake Mixam in the house my grandfather left me.
I glance back at the gorgeous structure. It’s got a log cabin feel but is huge, with a nearly A-frame roof that goes up three stories. The wall facing the lake is floor to ceiling windows, even up to the tippy top. It’s too much house for one person, but it’s mine.
My peace is interrupted by the dulcet tones of… is that Barenaked Ladies? When I look toward the sound, a familiar boat comes into view.
“Oh. Oh, no.” It’s them. The bros from the boat launch. The hot ones. No, bad Zoe. Don’t think about them as hot.
I take another sip of my beer as I watch the boat angle toward me. No, not me—the house next door. The quaint craftsman that is used as a vacation rental. The one that shares a pier with mine. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
It’s too hot and I’m too tired to deal with this right now.
Instead, I chug the rest of my beer and crush the can before gathering my blanket and my little cooler.
I need to get back in the house before they make it too close.
My feet drag as I walk, a tug in my chest making me feel like I’m going the wrong direction.
I glance over my shoulder one last time at them before slipping through the sliding glass door.
Dealing with them is a tomorrow problem. Or a never problem. Maybe I’ll just hide in my nest for the next week until they go home, and hope the scent of citrus and agave doesn’t haunt me for the rest of my life.