Chapter 9
SHARON
The office feels like a walk-in freezer, and I'm pretty sure my fingers have gone numb at least three times in the past hour.
I flex them, trying to get blood flowing back into the tips, but all that accomplishes is making them ache worse.
Jessica is sitting across from me at her desk, her hair tied up in a messy bun that looks like it started the day neat and has progressively given up on life.
She's wearing approximately seven layers, which is desperately needed for the weather outside and apparently also for the weather inside our office, since the heating is out again.
"So let me get this straight," Jessica says, setting down her pen and leaning back in her chair.
I watch her freeze for a second like she's waiting to see if the furniture is going to collapse under her.
When it doesn't, she continues. "Ben showed up at Cassian's house, saw you basically half-naked with his brother, screamed at you about the wedding, threatened you, and then left with his fiancée like some reluctant toddler being dragged out of the toy store. "
"That's the abbreviated version, yes," I say, wrapping my hands around my coffee cup even though the liquid inside has gone lukewarm at best. The ceramic is still warmer than the air in this office.
"The longer version involves a lot more screaming and significantly more dramatic eye patch tattoo commentary. "
Her eyebrows rise so high they nearly disappear into her hairline, and her mouth opens like she wants to say something but can't figure out which of the seventeen questions in her brain should come out first.
"That eye patch tattoo is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of in my entire life," she finally manages, pushing herself up from her chair and moving toward the small space heater we dragged in from the storage closet.
It's doing absolutely nothing to combat the arctic temperatures, but she stands in front of it anyway, holding her hands out like she's warming them over a campfire.
"Who gets a permanent eye patch tattooed on their face?
Like, that's not a temporary lapse in judgment.
That's a commitment to looking ridiculous for the rest of your natural life. "
"Ben and Penelope," I say, standing up because sitting still is making me colder.
I start pacing the length of the office, which isn't very long, but at least the movement generates some body heat.
My boots make soft thumping sounds against the old wooden floorboards.
"I don’t get why he was so angry about me being with Cassian.
Like, we broke up years ago. He moved on.
He's marrying someone else. Why does he care who I'm seeing? "
Jessica abandons the useless space heater and moves to the window, peering out at the snow-covered street below.
Pine Hollow looks like a postcard from this angle.
All picturesque storefronts and twinkling Christmas lights and mountains rising in the background like something out of a holiday movie.
"Do you think he still has feelings for you?" she asks, not turning around. Her breath fogs the glass. "Like, possessive pack-related feelings?"
"No way." The words come out fast and certain.
I stop pacing and face her back, even though she can't see me.
"Ben and I were incompatible. I see that so clearly now that I'm amazed I didn't see it when we were actually dating.
The man criticized everything I did. He made me feel small and like crap, all the time. "
But Cassian, Jett, and Pine? They actually see me. They see Sharon, the person, not just Sharon the omega.
Jessica turns from the window, wrapping her arms around herself.
She's wearing a sweater that's probably three times the size it should be, and it's somehow making her look even more curvy and soft than usual.
The sweater is bright pink, like someone decided that if they were going to be cold, they might as well be aggressively cheerful about it.
"So, you're really into this pack thing," she observes, moving back toward her desk but not sitting down.
Instead, she leans against the edge, one hip propped on the corner.
There's something in her voice that sounds like longing or maybe just curiosity.
"Like, you're seriously considering bonding with three alphas and building a life together. "
"I'm thinking about it," I admit, feeling warmth creep into my cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature. "I mean, it's complicated. We haven't bonded or anything. Hell, we haven't even really defined what we are to each other. But there's something there. Something real."
I pause at the window where Jessica was standing moments ago, looking out at the town below.
Somewhere out there, Pine is probably at his tattoo shop.
Jett's maybe at the gun range or meeting with clients.
Cassian could be anywhere, doing whatever firefighters do when they're not actively saving people from burning buildings.
"They make me feel safe in a way I've never felt before," I continue, turning back to face her.
"They see me as someone worth protecting, worth caring about.
Not just an omega to possess, but a person they actually like.
A person they think is funny and smart and capable, even when I'm having a complete meltdown about whether ivory or cream is the right choice for table linens. "
Jessica's expression softens, and she finally moves away from the desk to grab her own coffee cup. She takes a sip, makes a face at the temperature, and sets it back down.
"That's huge," she says quietly, moving to the small couch in the corner of the office. She sits down and tucks her feet under her. "I mean, three alphas?"
I abandon the window and join her on the couch, curling up on the opposite end. My knees pull up to my chest automatically, trying to conserve body heat. The fabric swatches are still scattered on the floor by my desk, forgotten and irrelevant.
"I don't know if I'm ready," I confess, the honesty coming easier than I expected. "But I know I want to find out. When I'm with them, I don't feel like I have to be smaller or quieter or more convenient. I can just be myself, anxiety and all."
Jessica pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over both of us. It's not much, but it's something. We're huddled together like pioneers trying to survive a blizzard, except instead of dying of exposure, we're just really uncomfortable and mildly concerned about frostbite.
"And I know that if I don't at least try," I continue, my voice getting quieter, "I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been. Wondering if I missed out on something amazing because I was too scared to take the risk."
"But you're still working," Jessica points out carefully, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "You're still here with me, planning weddings. That's not going to change, right? "
The concern in her voice makes something in my chest tighten.
Jessica is my friend, not just my colleague.
She's the person who's been here through all of this chaos, who's helped me plan this impossible wedding, who's sat with me in freezing offices and listened to me spiral about my ex-boyfriend's fraud schemes.
I reach over and squeeze her hand, which is ice cold even under the blanket.
"I'm not disappearing," I assure her, putting as much certainty as I can into the words. "Jessica, I'm still doing everything I promised to do. Whatever happens with Cassian, Jett, and Pine, I'm not abandoning my life or my career. I'm just maybe adding something good to it."
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, and she squeezes my hand back.
"Besides," I add with a small smile, "someone has to make sure you don't freeze to death in this office. And someone has to help you explain to brides why there are forty-seven different shades of white and why it matters which one they choose for their tablecloths."
Jessica laughs, the sound warm and genuine in the cold space. "It doesn't matter. But we charge them extra for the consultation anyway because if they want to stress about ivory versus cream, we might as well get paid for our suffering."
"That's the spirit," I say, grinning.
We sit there for a moment, wrapped in the inadequate blanket, breathing out visible clouds of air. The office is still absurdly cold. The heating system is still broken. We still have approximately forty-seven things to do before the wedding. But right now, in this moment, things feel okay.
"Good," Jessica says finally. "Because we have a wedding to plan, and apparently the universe decided that our heating system needed to take a vacation right now. In December. In Colorado."
As if on cue, she shivers dramatically, and her breath comes out in a visible white cloud that hangs in the air between us.
My teeth are starting to chatter despite my best efforts to stay still. My fingers are so numb I'm not sure I could hold a pen if I tried. My scent has probably turned into some kind of frozen strawberry and honey popsicle at this point, all the warm notes crystallized by the arctic temperature.
"You know what we need?" I say suddenly, throwing off the blanket and standing up.
My legs protest the movement, stiff from the cold.
I grab the edge of my desk to steady myself.
"We need hot chocolate. And brownies. Definitely brownies.
And maybe we'll figure out what to do about the heating situation while we're consuming massive amounts of chocolate and sugar. "
Jessica's face lights up like I just suggested something brilliant instead of the obvious solution to our current state of misery.