Chapter 9
Rowan
I feel flush, and my senses are overwhelmed. The smells, the testosterone. I want this job, but I have to get the fuck out of here now.
“Excuse me,” I say, standing up. “I’m feeling unwell, I think I need to reschedule the rest of the interview.”
I look into Massimo’s hazel green eyes. There’s so much there it both intrigues and terrifies me. I’ve never been affected by others’ scents. Not like this. Like I want to crawl into each man in the room and be a second skin because that’s how close I need them to be. No, I work with these men. I shouldn’t feel this way.
But the new guy, the one that came in last. He smells the most delicious of all. I want to crawl to him and rub myself all over his body like a cat. I need to get out of here now. I stand to leave, but a hand on my arm stops me.
It’s the newcomer. His soft gray eyes assess me with concern.
“Are you alright?”
I shake my head. “I-I need to go.”
His hand on my arm is gentle, but it feels like a lifeline. The moment I feel his touch, something inside me responds, calming my panic for a fraction of a second. I don’t know him, not really, but there’s something about him that makes me trust him instinctively. Something that tells me he won’t hurt me, that he understands more than he lets on.
But I can’t make sense of any of this. I’m overwhelmed by the sensations; the way I feel pulled to the men in the room, the confusing strength of the pheromones in the air. The way my body reacts to his scent, even though I don’t know his name. The way I crave his closeness, but at the same time, I feel like I’m going to lose control if I don’t get out of here.
I open my mouth to protest, but I can’t form the words. How do I explain that everything is changing? That I feel like I’m losing myself?
The man who helped me stands close, his voice soft but insistent. "Let me escort you. I don’t think you should go alone, especially not like this. You can come to my hotel room if you need space, but at least let me take you somewhere safe."
I hesitate. My body is still thrumming with confusion, my senses completely overwhelmed. But I know one thing: I need space. And something in his eyes tells me that, for whatever reason, he can help.
“Alright,” I say, barely above a whisper, “you can come with me. But just to my place. I need some space... Please.”
He doesn’t push. He just nods, the look in his eyes softening, a trace of understanding in them. "Of course. Just your place. We’ll go at your pace."
We move toward the door, and I’m acutely aware of how close he is to me. His scent, wild honey, rain, vanilla, and musk, mingles with the lingering, with my burnt peach cobbler in the air. I want to breathe it in, but it only adds to the storm inside me.
I can’t be like this, I think, trying to shake off the rising panic in my chest. I’m a Beta. I can’t react like this. I’ve never... I’ve never had these kinds of urges before. My mind is a whirlwind, a thousand thoughts battling for attention. But my body? It’s not listening. Every step we take feels like a slow descent into madness, my body responding to him, to the man who stepped in to help me, even though I still don’t know his name. It’s all too much, but I’m too afraid to stop now.
I glance at him, trying to find some semblance of clarity in his eyes. "I don’t know what’s happening to me," I admit, my voice small and fragile. "I’ve never... I’ve never felt like this. I’m a Beta. This... all of this... it doesn’t make sense."
He glances over at me, his gaze soft but steady. "You’re not alone in feeling like this," he says quietly, his voice filled with understanding that makes me feel like I’m not losing my mind. "We’ll figure this out. One step at a time."
His words settle in my chest, offering a flicker of relief. He doesn’t seem freaked out, doesn’t seem to think I’m losing my mind. He just... understands .
And for now, that’s enough.