Chapter 11
11
RUBY
I wake up burning up. Not the gentle kind of warmth that lingers after a dream, but the kind that makes your skin feel too tight, your bones too heavy.
The snow falling outside my window seems to mock me—all that cold, and here I am, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, clutching my middle as another wave of cramping heat flares over me.
"Not now," I groan into my pillow, but my body isn't listening. It's been building for days, if I'm honest with myself. Garrett saw it before I did—the way I kept leaning into his touch at the bar last night, how even Knox's scent and smirk couldn't make me pull away. It's my heat, and it's never hit this hard before.
Forcing myself up, my bare feet find the plush rug beside my bed. The room spins a little, and I grab the edge of my nightstand to steady myself. My coat from last night is draped over my reading chair, and before I can stop myself, I'm reaching for it. The fabric is still cold from the winter air, but underneath that...
I bring it to my face, inhaling deeply, and my knees nearly buckle. His scent is there—pine needles and hops, yes, but underneath is his richer scent of coffee beans roasted with vanilla. It's faint, but it's enough to make the aching in my core both better and worse. I stumble back to bed, clutching the coat like a lifeline.
Last night feels like a dream now. The way we kissed in the elf house, how I went down on him and greedily swallowed his cum.
Another cramp hits, and I curl tighter around the coat, watching snowflakes dance past my window. The rational part of my brain—the part that isn't currently drowning in hormones and need—knows this is moving too fast. A week ago, I had only bad Alpha dating experiences. Now, here I am, practically nesting with Garrett's scent.
My Aunt Eve's words float back to me from that summer I spent with her. We were sitting on her porch, watching thunderclouds roll in when she told me about meeting her now-passed husband, James.
"The smart ones," she'd said, tapping her temple with a knowing smile. "They choose their Alpha before their heat even makes a showing. That way, you know it's your heart picking, not just your biology."
She'd met Uncle Jim at a farmer's market and argued with him about the price of peaches. Three months later, her heat hit, and she said she never even considered another Alpha.
"When you know, you know," she'd tell me, even years after he was gone. She never remarried, saying she'd rather have those perfect years with him than a lifetime of settling for less.
I take another deep breath of Garrett's fading scent, feeling the way it settles something wild and restless inside me. It scares me how fast this is all moving. How natural it feels to think of him as mine. Now, I'm lying here, burning up, craving the presence of an Alpha like I never have before.
The snow is coming down harder now, coating my windowsill in white. Another wave of heat burns through me, and I let out a laugh that's a half-groan.
"Well, Ruby," I mutter to my empty room. "For someone who swore off Alphas, you're doing a bang-up job of turning into a walking Omega cliché."
Even as I say it, I press my face deeper into the coat, chasing that last trace of pine and coffee and something that feels dangerously close to home. I know I should be fighting this harder. Except, the rest of me just wants to surrender to whatever this is becoming.
I reach for my phone, seeing a message from him already waiting.
Good morning, beautiful. Missing you already.
Despite the fever burning through me, despite every warning bell in my head, I find myself smiling. Maybe Aunt Eve was right. Maybe sometimes you do just know.
I curl up tighter under my blanket, and I clench my eyes, contemplating a cold, cold shower to see if that helps.
The winter wind chases me into Sugar & Spice, bringing a flurry of snowflakes that melt on the warm wooden floors. The difference between the biting cold outside and the bakery's cozy warmth makes me pause in the doorway, letting my frozen cheeks thaw. Classical music drifts from hidden speakers—definitely Hannah's choice, not Lily's—and the scent of vanilla, butter, and something citrusy has my stomach growling for food.
After the cold shower, my heat seemed to subside, so I took that as my sign to start my day and hope the heat doesn't return.
Now, the mid-morning light streams through snow-frosted windows, catching on the gleaming display cases that line the walls. Each shelf is filled with delicious baked goodies, from macaroons in perfect pastel rows and chocolate eclairs with ganache so glossy, I can see my reflection, to tiny lemon tarts crowned with fresh berries. Then there's what appears to be today's new creation near the cash register—a decadent chocolate tart swirled with caramel and dusted with flakes of sea salt that sparkle like morning frost.
"Well, I was going to send a search party out for you!" Lily's voice rings out from behind the counter. She's wearing a butter-yellow dress that makes her golden-brown eyes pop. Her wild deep brown curls are attempting to escape from a messy bun, and there's a streak of what might be chocolate on her cheek. "I was wondering how long you'd stay away."
"I'm just here for snacks and to tell you that Ash will pop over later to pick up our order for the Christmas party booking we're running tonight." I make my way to the counter, snagging a sample cookie from the plate near the register. "Ash and I have a slow day at the bar with all this snow."
"Mmhmm." Lily props her elbows on the counter, nearly knocking over a display of cake pops. She catches them quickly. "Nothing to do with avoiding certain conversations about a certain gorgeous specimen I might have seen you with?"
The cookie, still warm, almost goes down the wrong way. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really?" Lily's grin turns wicked. "So, that wasn't you diving past my shop yesterday when you spotted me? And that wasn't a tall drink of water with shoulders like a linebacker walking you home?"
"That was Knox," I say, trying to sound casual while reaching for another sample. "He's just one of the guides from the tourist company. No big deal."
"No big deal?" Lily whistles low, absently twirling one of her escaped curls. "Honey, please point any other not-big deals my way. Those arms alone could?—"
I shoot her a look that makes her burst out laughing.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Though..." She leans in conspiratorially.
Before I can respond, Hannah emerges from the kitchen, her hair twisted in its perfect French knot.
"I thought I heard voices," she murmurs, her warm brown eyes taking in my slightly frazzled state. "How are you holding up, Ruby?"
"Oh, she's holding up just fine," Lily interjects before I can speak. "What with her mystery man from yesterday. Though..." She draws out the word like taffy. "Apparently, you were seen hand in hand with another guy yesterday at the fair."
I narrow my eyes, and I'm not sure why I'm surprised, seeing this town loves gossip.
They both stare at me, and I busy myself selecting another sample of treats—this time a petit four that dissolves on my tongue in a cloud of raspberry and dark chocolate.
"It wasn't a date," I mumble around the heavenly mouthful. "We just went to the winter fair."
"Perfect!" Lily claps her hands, nearly upending a tray of croissants. Hannah steadies it without looking, used to her sister's enthusiastic gestures. "You're all set then. Which one are you picking to deal with Marcus?"
I actually choke this time.
Hannah hurries to get me water while Lily continues.
"I mean, they both sound delicious. Tourist Guide or Mysterious Fair Prince? Though I have to say, if you're taking applications..."
"It's not that straightforward," I manage after gulping down water. My eyes catch on a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls Hannah's arranging, desperate for distraction. "And hey, what about those perfect matches you said you and Hannah were trying to set me up with? Maybe cancel those since I have my hands full?"
"Yes, you do," Lily purrs. "But maybe you've already met them?"
I stare at her, slightly confused. What is she saying?
Hannah's brow furrows as she places a tray of perfect rosette cupcakes onto the glass shelf case.
"Ruby, you know you can't spend too long deciding on an Alpha. Your timing?—"
The bell above the door chimes, bringing in a rush of cold air and customers. Lily springs into action, her yellow dress swishing as she greets them. I watch in amazement as she remembers not only their names but asks about one woman's daughter's dance recital and another's recent vacation to Florida.
Hannah moves to help, but not before giving me a pointed look that says this conversation isn't over. I watch them work while munching on another cookie.
When the rush dies down and before more customers enter, Lily quickly pushes a box toward me. "Here. Extra of the sea salt caramel things because I love you. Come over tomorrow night so we can catch up?"
"Can't," I mumble, suddenly fascinated by the geometric pattern on the coffee cup display. "I'm catching up with someone."
"Oho!" Lily's eyes light up like Christmas came early. "Tourist company god or mystery fair man? Wait, don't tell me. Let me guess by your blush..."
"I hate you."
"You love me," Lily teases. "And you're going to tell us everything, eventually."
"And we want details," Hannah adds, waggling her eyebrows. "Lots of juicy details."
I grab my box and head for the door, but not before Lily calls out.
"And Ruby? Whoever you choose... just make sure it's what you want, not what you think you should want!"
The bell chimes behind me as I step back into the snow, Hannah's words about timing mixing with Lily's parting advice in my head. They're both right—I need to figure this out. Tonight, I'll go out with Knox and get to know him better. Then, I can make a clear decision and stop leading anyone on.
My stomach twists at the thought of having to let either of them down. I peek in the box, and true to her word, Lily's loaded it with those sea salt caramel tarts. There's also a perfect chocolate croissant she knows I love. Sometimes, best friends know exactly what you need, even when they're driving you crazy. Even if what they're saying makes too much sense to ignore.
I head back toward the bar, the snow crunching under my boots, trying to ignore the way my heart speeds up when I think about tonight.