Chapter 23
June
As I back out of my hotel room, I turn and slam into a wall.
Stumbling back, hands grip me, the scent of caramel and peppermint teases my nose, and I look up.
I have to fumble for the name. “Oscar?” It’s been a couple of weeks since I last saw the blond-haired and gray-eyed alpha I bumped into outside the laundromat near my apartment.
He’s looking good in a pair of blue jeans, a blue button-down shirt, and has an expensive-looking brown leather weekend bag by his feet.
His cheeks dimple as he flashes me a grin. “You remembered my name.”
I shrug. “This is the second time we’ve bumped into each other. Are you staying here?”
I thought a rich alpha—from his bag and the fact he was driving a Mercedes, he’s definitely rich—would stay in a nicer hotel than the budget one I work at.
He nods. “I was about to check out when I saw you with a towel and told myself I was just imagining you. If I’d known you worked here, I would have checked in sooner.”
Confused, I tilt my head.
His smile widens. “So I could see you again,” he explains.
“Oh.”
He laughs. “Ah, my flirting game needs work, I see.”
Feeling awkward, I glance down the empty hallway.
He takes a step back, his smile fading. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel uncomfortable. I thought you were beautiful when I bumped into you before, and I told myself I’d say something if I were ever lucky enough to bump into you again. Sorry.” He picks up his bag and walks away.
I chew my lip, pondering what to do.
I went to Haven Academy hoping to find something genuine, and I thought I’d found that with my scent matches, but maybe this could be the something real I always wanted. Oscar seems nice, and isn’t this a fresh start? Why not fully embrace this new life and move on?
“Wait!” I call after him before he can press the button to call an elevator.
He turns around, curious.
I walk over to him and shift from foot to foot, avoiding his gaze. “You, uh, you didn’t scare me. I’m just, well, I wasn’t sure I wanted a relationship with anyone because… because of a lot of reasons.”
Technically, not a lot of reasons.
Three reasons. Three alphas have left me wondering if there was even a point. If I couldn’t find love and happiness with my scent matches, who could I find it with?
He studies me thoughtfully with his head slightly tilted. “Relationship is a big word. How about a smaller word?”
“Like?”
“Tea.”
“T?”
He smiles at my confusion. “The drink, not the letter. Just a cup of tea or coffee in any place you want to go. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”
“If it goes nowhere?”
“Then it goes nowhere.” He waits for my answer, his expression as patient as any I’ve ever seen.
“Okay,” I eventually say, silencing my doubt.
You’re just afraid he will hurt you, and that’s okay. But you have to try, June.
This is my new life. I have a job, an apartment, and friends in my building. The next natural step is a boyfriend.
We exchange numbers, and Oscar Michaels, CEO of a private hedge fund and my potential new boyfriend, leaves with a smile. “I’ll see you this weekend, June.”
It’s only after he’s walked away that it hits me I have nothing to wear.
“Undo the top three buttons,” Lucia says on the day of my date, eyeing my blouse critically.
I look down, frowning. “But it’s just tea. I don’t want to pop out.”
“You’re going to be sitting down, so he won’t see the rest of you. This gives you limited opportunities to catch his eye. Top three buttons. Undo them.”
I’m in her studio apartment, and she’s lending me a pretty floral dress with ruffled edges for my date with Oscar.
I might have had something less revealing to wear if I hadn't gotten rid of the dress and sandals I'd worn from the hospital.
But that outfit was the last remnant of a life I wanted to forget.
As soon as I had new clothes, I packed the dress and sandals into a grocery bag and took them to the nearest thrift store.
During my unhappy year with my scent matches, I lost more weight than I realized. I dropped even more pounds when I was in hospital. But I’ve been slowly putting that weight back on, and some of it has been going to a very specific place.
I undo the top three buttons and give Lucia a pointed look. “I’m going to get arrested for public indecency.”
She makes a face and pushes herself to her feet from her bed. “Okay, I see what you mean. Let’s try something a little less explicit.”
She rummages through her closet, pulling out a pink lace dress that she holds toward me. “How about this?”
“I don’t want to be overdressed,” I tell her, and I definitely will be if I wear that.
It’s a pretty sleeveless dress with a silky slip underneath that’s a little shorter than the lace.
“This is to remind him that you look pretty in a dress, so when he takes you to dinner at an expensive restaurant, he knows he has something to look forward to.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Dinner?”
“There’s nothing wrong with planning for the future.” She presses the dress into my hands and nudges me toward her bathroom. “Try it on.”
Her tiny bathroom is identical to mine, though she’s made the space work better than I have. A plastic shoe hanger on the back of her door would solve a lot of my storage issues.
“Where did you get the shoe hanger from?” I ask her, wrestling into the dress and stepping into my white sneakers. With sneakers, I’m still overdressed, but I look a little less like I should be at a cocktail party. “You can fit a lot of stuff in one of those.”
“Walmart. You can load that puppy down, and it’ll never fail you, unlike my shithead ex, Enzo, who had a thing for blondes.”
I laugh. “Why was he dating you then?”
Lucia has long, thick chestnut-brown hair.
She bounced back from quitting the hotel cleaning job to get away from ‘Wandering Hands Manny’ to land a job in a fancy art gallery in the city.
If I knew anything at all about art, unlike Lucia, who majored in art history in college, I would have taken her up on her offer to work there, too.
“I asked him after I flung a bucket of cold water over his head from my window. I won’t tell you what he told me, but it definitely wasn’t the answer to my question.”
More laughter bubbles from my throat. I aspire to be more like Lucia. Her tolerance for bullshit is low, and her ability to hold a grudge is legendary.
I open the bathroom door and stretch my arms out wide. “What do you think?”
She whistles. “You’re definitely getting some. Wear nice underwear.”
Blushing, I look down. The dress is a tiny bit tight in the chest, with the skirt hitting just above my knees. It’s definitely too dressy for a coffee shop date, but I like it. “I’m not looking to get any on this date. Just get to know each other a bit. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh,” she says with a look in her eyes that says she isn’t buying it.
She knows about Oscar’s Mercedes and that I have trust issues with alphas.
I haven’t told her everything about my year of hell with my ex-scent matches.
Not because I’m keeping it a secret, but knowing Lucia, she’d set their house on fire to get payback for me.
I don’t need to be arrested for arson or murder. Neither does she.
“You've gotta go test it.” She grabs my hand and tugs me toward her door. Her apartment, like mine, is a small studio, with the same worn furniture that came with the unit and not nearly well-maintained enough by our useless super. She’s decorated more than I have, with splashes of color coming from her drapes, cushions, and cute décor.
“Test what?”
“Go for a walk up and down the street.”
“What?” I fight the urge to snatch up a red flannel blanket from her couch to cover myself. “But what if a guy in the street tries to talk to me?”
“Then it means the dress is working.” She pats my arm reassuringly as she continues steering me toward a fate I’m not eager to embrace.
“We just need to know the dress is having the desired impact. I think you look hot, but we need a guy’s perspective.
Is it too much or is it not enough? Go talk to Jack. ”
“Flirt with Jack?” I frown. He’s more of a friend, and when we talk, I get friend vibes from him, unless I’m useless at reading signals, but maybe Lucia has picked up on something I missed. “I don’t know about that, Lucia.”
“No.” She opens her front door. “Talk to him. If he does nothing but stare, the dress is doing its job.”
“And if he doesn’t notice it?”
“He’s gay.”
I stare at her. “You’re joking.”
“I’m joking,” she says with a smile as she nudges me out into the hallway. “Let me know how it goes. I have other dress options.” Then she closes the door in my face, proving she wasn’t joking at all.
The dress does the job and then some.
A guy halfway down the street licks his lips and strides toward me. I hurry away, tugging the hem of the skirt down as I peer over my shoulder while he closes the distance. I’m practically running as I burst into the hardware store, scaring Jack shitless.
“Fucking hell,” he yells, mid-dive behind the counter for the baseball bat he keeps for protection. “I thought someone was here to rob the place.”
“Sorry.” I yank the rising hem of the dress back down to daytime decency levels.
He tucks his bat behind the counter and eyes my dress curiously. “Uh… nice dress.”
I glance at the front door. When the man on the street doesn’t follow me inside, I relax and join Jack at the counter as he returns to filling a shelf with stock. “Lucia sent me out to test it before my date later. She told me to walk down the street to get a guy’s perspective.”
“Alone?” Jack wipes all expression from his face. “That, uh, doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
I make a face. “It wasn’t. A man was looking at me like his birthday and Christmas had come all at once.”
Jack laughs. “Well, tell Lucia the dress—from a guy’s perspective—is very nice.”
“Thanks. I will.” I lean on the counter, watching Jack for a bit.