30. Sabs #2
The low moan of a saxophone coming from the radio grabs my attention. I lean forward to speak to the driver. “Can you play something a bit more… lively?”
“Lively?” the driver repeats blankly.
“You know, music that you’d rather dance to than listen to while walking in the rain after having your heart broken.”
Orin splutters as the driver mumbles something about jazz being the music of the soul. The track switches to another song with a more upbeat tempo. It’s better, but it’s not exactly the party tunes I’ve become accustomed to when whipping through campus in a golf cart.
“I didn’t think you liked going to clubs,” I turn to face Orin, studying his strong profile.
“I don’t really.” A smile plays on his lips. “But you keep saying how much you’ve missed dancing.”
“So you do listen to what I say.” I tap my chin. “Sometimes anyway.”
“I hear a lot more than you think.” He leans in, his breath tickling my neck. “Even the things you don’t have to say out loud.”
My body responds instantly, my scent filling the vehicle. Orin’s smug expression tells me that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Luckily, I’m wearing plenty of scent blockers—something I’ll always do after what happened at Adler’s hockey game until my heats fall into a regular cycle.
“How did you even get tickets to this club opening?” Changing the subject is my safest bet right now.
Otherwise, I’ll be on my way to slick city from another of his smoldering looks.
After insulting his taste in music, I doubt the driver will want to mop a puddle off his seats.
“It sounds like it was hard to get an invitation.”
He shrugs. “I have friends in high places.”
“What friends?” I tease. “You don’t exactly strike me as the social type.”
His gray eyes twinkle. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Fuck. I re-cross my legs, the sexy glint in his eyes seeming to have an instant panty-soaking effect.
I’ve always been confident in talking to guys, but there’s something about Orin’s commanding presence that gives me nervous butterflies.
I’ve survived having three older brothers and being the only omega engineer in my major, yet one look from him has me turning into a teenager again. I should be able to handle one alpha.
“You look exquisite tonight.” He pulls a box out of his pants pocket. “I got you something.”
I rear back. “You bought me a gift?”
“We’re courting,” he replies with a smirk. “That’s what courting alphas do.”
“Right, yeah.” I regain my composure. “Of course.”
Because of how my spontaneous bonding with Adler happened, we obviously skipped past the courting stage, so I didn’t get the full experience.
It seems Orin is wanting to correct that.
It shouldn’t surprise me, considering he’s a guy who likes to play by the rules, but I’m still taken aback by his thoughtfulness.
I stifle a gasp when I open the velvet box to find a gorgeous necklace sitting on a pale blue cushion. It has a delicate silver chain with a malachite heart hanging on it. The heart itself has a small golden sun engraved into it. It’s without a doubt the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen.
“I know the locket may not be your usual style, but it was my mothers,” he explains. “She left it to me after she passed.”
“This was your mom’s?” My mouth goes dry, my hands shakily closing the box. “I-I can’t accept a gift like this. It’s too much.”
“You can and will.” Orin takes the box from me, opening it again. “She died a long time ago. I’m sure she would have wanted you to have it. She once told me that if I could find a woman as strong minded as myself, I’d be a very happy man.” He grins. “She would’ve liked you.”
I tilt my head. “Do you really think so?”
“She was a proud, hot-blooded Italian woman.” Orin’s voice softens as he strokes the necklace chain. “She was never afraid to say what she thought. She also worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known. Something she instilled in me, I guess.”
“She sounds great, Orin,” I say. “I wish I could have met her.”
There’s sadness hiding behind his smile. “Me too.”
When he holds the gift out to me again, I carefully take the locket out, admiring it up close. “It really is stunning.”
“I made a few upgrades.” Orin points to it. “Why don’t you open it?”
After undoing the clasp, I discover that underneath the smooth silver case lies a filigree golden layer, embossed with an intricate floral pattern.
At first, I think it’s just a cute design, but then I realize the pattern is ornately etched to form the initials of each alpha in the pack. And it smells…
I bring it to my nose, unable to stop myself. I can pick apart their individual scents: Adler’s zesty citrus, Luca’s calming pine, Drax’s clean peaches, all under the overpowering note of Orin’s spicy cinnamon and rum.
“A scent locket,” I murmur, realization hitting me.
You can get scent jewelry of all kinds. A scent is deposited on either a scrap of fabric, a scent-absorbent rock, gem or similar, then made into a wearable piece. Knowing that it’s been made from a family heirloom makes it even more unique.
“We can refresh the scent whenever needed,” Orin says. “Faye told me about her gram’s Everlast spray when we were at their house, and it’s been working amazingly well.”
“It’s perfect.” My voice comes out a little choked. I can’t believe he went to this amount of effort for me. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“May I?”
I nod, our fingers brushing as he takes the necklace from me. A delicious chill runs down my spine as I turn my head, and he fastens the chain around my neck. The metal feels like it’s warming my chest as it falls into position.
“Thank you so much.” I stroke the metal heart. “It’s amazing.”
“It’s been layered in a special coating, so it’s sweat resistant and waterproof too,” he says. “I know how much you enjoy hot yoga and volleyball.”
He seems to have considered everything, making me feel ridiculously special, but also even more curious to learn more about him.
“I love it,” I confirm. “I’ll never want to take it off.”
His breath tickles my earlobe as he leans in, “And we’ll always be with you wherever you are.”
Usually, I’d make a jokey remark about him sounding like a stalker, but I stay silent, sensing how big of a deal this is.
I knew that Adler was serious about making our relationship work but receiving this from the pack leader only confirms that they’re all in.
I didn’t realize I needed this affirmation from Orin, but being gifted this precious family heirloom makes all my worries about our date disappear. It shows how serious he is about us.
“Look.” He clears his throat, pointing out the window. “Looks like we’re here.”
We park on an unassuming street. No one else is around. I can’t see any signage or lights, and there’s definitely no music blaring.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” I’m skeptical.
Orin leans over to tip the driver with a wad of bills. “Positive.”
I get out of the car before Orin can make it around to my side, earning myself a scowl from him but making me feel victorious.
Orin places his hand on the small of my back as he leads me over to a well-worn wooden door that looks like it hasn’t been painted in years. “This way.”
“I thought this place was supposed to be cutting edge?”
“It is.” He raps on the door in a weird pattern.
I almost jump out of my skin when an indistinct wooden panel is slid out of the way, halfway up the door, revealing a small window filled by a pair of eyes peering back at us.
“Password?”
“Labryinth,” Orin says.
Seconds later, I hear what sounds like a bolt sliding, and the door opens with a creak.
Orin gives me a gentle push. “Omegas first.”
“Yeah, let me lead the way into some serial killer’s lair,” I say.
“The door’s at the end of the hallway,” the man guarding the door tells us. He’s almost as big as Drax, dressed in a snazzy suit, looking like he belongs in a mafia romance.
I narrow my eyes on him. “If there’s a three-headed dog down there, I will hold you responsible.”
Orin snorts, taking my hand as we make our way to the stairs. It’s dimly lit, my heels clicking against the wooden floor as we descend. Expensive-looking paintings illuminated by soft orange lights line the red walls.
“Brace yourself, dynamite.” Orin grins as he pushes the door open with his shoulder.
The lower we get, the louder the pumping bass and music from below is.
“Holy shit,” is all I can say when the stairs end in an underground club.
The walls are predominantly red brick, adorned with ornate golden mirrors and more paintings that lend to the space’s speakeasy vibe.
There are deep-violet booths with velvet seats nestled in cozy corners, everything cast in a dim, amber glow.
The bar looks more like a potion-making station with odd-shaped bottles and servers wearing leather aprons.
It’s busy, but not overcrowded, giving it an air of exclusivity. Most of the women are wearing slinky black dresses and look almost identical. I stand out like a sore thumb in my bright green sequins.
“Drink?” Orin strides over to the bar, plucking up one of the thick papered menus.
I scour the menu, landing on a Blue Lagoon.
Orin gives me a knowing smirk when he orders a Cherry Bite.
Waiting for our order, I detect a heady mix of scents in the air, but there is a neutral undertone as well to the air, indicating that they must have an expensive scent-neutralizing system in operation.
It doesn’t make my nose slightly sting like the scent-neutralizers that are pumped in cheaper bars, where the owners are more concerned about preventing rutting disasters than enhancing their patrons’ comfort.
Drinks in hand, we settle into a booth. Although it’s in a quieter corner, away from the bustle, we still have to huddle together to be heard over the loud music.
“Mmm.” I suck up my drink, the flavors bursting over my tongue in a fruity explosion. “Delicious.”