Chapter 20
TWENTY
TWO DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS
Okay.
This is fine.
It’s fine.
Clara isn’t here, and I need her, I need her, I need her, and she isn’t here. She’s not coming home tonight after work, and I need her here.
I need her.
At least she sent a text message.
Clara
Hey, crashing with Hazel tonight for a girls’ night! I’ll be home tomorrow.
Except I don’t think this can wait until tomorrow, because my pheromones are flooding my nest with the scent of burnt chocolate and bitter orange, proving that my suppressants are finally out of my system.
This is fine.
Fine.
Fine.
It’s not fine.
Holy shit, I am not fine.
I am spiraling.
The place is now so saturated in my scent that I haven’t been able even to get an inkling of Clara’s, and I have been psyching myself up all day to find out the truth.
I need to know. That’s why I’m spiraling, probably, because I don’t know. I was preparing myself to find out tonight if she’s my scent match, and now she’s not coming home, and I get to spend another day stewing in the possibility.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, hoping she texted me again, and I just happened to miss it in the ten seconds I wasn’t staring at the screen.
What am I going to do if she doesn’t come home? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! Is she going to miss Christmas with me? That doesn’t seem like something she would do, but she’s gone, and I need her, and what if she doesn’t come back?
Have I always been this clingy? Why does it feel like she rejected me?
She didn’t reject me.
She’s having a sleepover.
A sleepover is not rejection, but my Omega hindbrain is in overdrive, spiraling because she’s not here, and that means she rejected me because if she wanted me, she’d be here.
Maybe I should text her and ask her to come home.
Hey, I went off my suppressants. I know you said it didn’t have to mean anything when we slept together, but it meant something to me. Can you come home or meet me somewhere so I can finally know once and for all if we’re meant to be together?
I erase the message. It sounds absolutely unhinged and clingy, exactly why a lot of Betas don’t want to be with Omegas.
Thinking of you. We have a lot to talk about.
Nope, that isn’t it at all. It’s too cryptic. Even someone without anxiety would fly into a tailspin over that kind of message.
Hey. Everything okay?
That seems okay. It’s friendly, and totally what a best friend would do in this situation. This isn’t me being a whiny Omega. This is a friend checking in on his best friend.
My best friend, whom I am in love with.
I stare at my phone as the three dots bounce, indicating she’s typing a response. They start and stop several times before her message comes in.
Clara
Yeah, of course. We’re gonna make some cookies and watch movies. I’ll be home tomorrow around lunch.
Okay, that’s good. That’s promising, isn’t it? She’s not mad at me. She’s not blowing me off.
She’s not rejecting me.
Unless she’s lying to me, and she is there to tell Hazel that we fucked and ask for help on how to let me down easily.
Maybe she’s trying to figure out how to tell me we can’t live together anymore since we crossed that boundary from friends to lovers?
Temporary lovers.
Lovers that didn’t mean anything.
It meant something. It meant so much to me.
Knowing it may be a bad idea, but unable to help myself, I text Katy.
Hi, help. Help help help.
I kissed Clara.
Katy
Oh my god, what?? Finally!! So are you two a thing now?
We also slept together.
Holy shit. Tell me all about it.
She said that it doesn’t have to mean anything.
…
What did you say to that?
I may have said it first.
Wow. You two are pathetic.
Before I can reply, a voice memo comes in from the other Omega, and I press play.
“Okay, so don’t you realize it’s the person who really wants something to be real who says it doesn’t have to mean anything?
The fact that you both said it means that you are into each other!
If she weren’t, she would’ve said something like ‘okay, good, because I don’t want it to mean anything’!
Stop, Quincy, get off the counter. Look, you love her.
Don’t - don’t even try to deny it, Felix.
You love her. And I saw the way she looked at you at the party, and I would put money on her loving you, too.
And then this? Come on, dude. My love life is abysmal.
You have to do this for me so I can live vicariously through you. You have to tell her how you feel.”
Is Katy right? Does Clara telling me it doesn’t need to mean anything mean that she’s trying to convince me she’s okay with it being just a one-time thing?
If that’s true, then maybe Clara loves me the way I love her.
I need to be brave. I’ll give Clara the locket tomorrow and tell her to read the paper inside. I’m going to make sure she knows how I feel. Regardless of whether or not we are a scent match, I am going to tell Clara just how much I love her.
And pray it doesn’t ruin everything.
I can’t remember the last time I nested like this. It’s usually only like this right before I go into heat, but that can’t be possible, because I just went off my suppressants. It’s going to take a bit for my hormones to level out and for me to go into heat.
These pillows are pissing me off. I picked them out last time I went off suppressants, and I hate them. I hate them so much. I need to go to the store and refresh the nest, but the idea of doing that without an Alpha and my Beta makes me feel queasy.
My Beta.
Am I really claiming her?
Maybe she will take me shopping if she doesn’t hate me after I tell her how I feel.
A knock on the door has me pausing. Clara wouldn’t knock, and I’m not expecting anyone.
Who’s at the door?
I climb out of my nest, and whoever is outside knocks again, this time more frantically.
“Hold on, I’m coming,” I shout, pulling on a sweater over my bare chest. It’s really warm in here right now, but I will not be giving a free show to whoever is at the door.
The knocking continues, this time rapid fire, and I groan, yanking open the door. “What?” I bark.
Gabriel’s fist freezes, halted mid-knock by the door flying open. He gapes at me, mouth slack. It takes me a moment to realize why.
Peppermint.
He smells like peppermints.
Sweet, clean, sharp.
Peppermints.
Holy fucking shit, he smells so good.
He doesn’t say anything. He pushes into my apartment, and I step backwards, my body loose and eyes heavy-lidded. The Alpha wraps his arms around my hips and pulls me flush to his body, burying his face in my neck. I can feel his cock thickening against mine, and I whine.
I need it.
I need him.
“Omega,” he groans, kissing my skin. “My Omega. I knew it.”
My mind fogs for a moment before I snap back to reality. “Yours?” I whisper, hardly able to breathe.
“My scent match, my Omega, mine.” He runs his fingers through my messy hair before grabbing my chin and tilting my face up. “Hi, Felix.”
My heart stutters and then kicks up speed, threatening to burst out of my chest as I process everything. There’s no denying the primal call of his scent. That it’s Gabriel, the Alpha that I have felt a pull to since I met him, is making my head spin.
“Hi, Alpha,” I whisper. The title is barely past my lips when he presses his mouth to mine, and I feel like I am floating out of my body.
“I came here to ask you on a date,” he says, breaking our sweet kiss. “When did you go off your suppressants?”
“A few days ago. I … I wanted to know if Clara was my scent match. I never imagined…” I trail off. Is it bad form to talk about wanting someone else when I’m in my Alpha’s arms?
But his eyes light up, and a massive smile stretches across his face. “Well, lucky me, then. I knew there was something special about you.”
He kisses me again, pulling me against his hard length and rotating his hips enough to make me moan into his mouth.
“I swear I didn’t come here for this.” He wraps his arms around my hips and rests his hands under my ass before he hoists me up.
My legs coil around his waist. “I came to take you on a date. To get sugar cookie coffee and see the Christmas lights.” He stumbles over his words because my lips refuse to leave his.
I am desperate for him, slick soaking through my boxers, but I maintain enough of my senses to pull away as he hauls me through the door of my bedroom, somehow knowing exactly where my nest is.
“Wait,” I say, pressing a hand to his sternum. “I have to tell you. I’m in love with Clara.”
His handsome smile overwhelms me as he looks down at me. “I know. That’s okay.”
“You know?”
“I know.”
“That’s okay?”
He brushes his lips against mine. “More than okay. Now let me take care of you, Omega.”
“Yes, Alpha.”