5. Cassidy
five
Cassidy
The peach perfume turns sour, like the sad fruit you forget at the bottom of the basket. My stomach drops as she turns to face me, fear written all over her face. Fuck, I didn’t mean to scare her.
Instead of addressing my mistakes, I find myself smiling. “So what the little lady is doing is eavesdropping?”
Indigo winces when I don’t bother to keep my voice low.
Besides being weird to find her right here in the shadows, she’s not doing anything wrong, and I don’t want to feel like she is.
My lips curve into a smirk, and she finally starts reacting the way I want.
Her nostrils flare, and finally that rotten fruit scent leaves. Good, I prefer her to be angry.
“I was just going to ask Nash something,” she says, tipping her chin up.
“Good.” I nod and turn her around in my hands and push her forward. “Let’s ask!”
She splutters, digging her heels down, but she’s more than a foot shorter than I am, so I push her easily. Indigo kicks the door open accidentally as she tries to hold me back, getting everyone’s attention as we make an entrance.
“Look who I found eavesdropping,” I say merrily as we enter the room.
Indigo gasps, narrowing her eyes at me over her shoulder, and it’s honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Damn, Hank is right. She’s totally worth a midnight swim.
“Hey Indigo, how can I help?”
Nash’s voice turns serious and light at the same time, though he slices me a look, watching my hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t give me a chance to step away, but shakes herself off me as if I’m a pesky bug annoying her.
It’s like she’s part of the family already.
“I came to—” She licks her lips before glancing at Hank, as if he’s about to swim again for her.
It’s terribly awkward, and I’m delighted. Hey, the business of Omega bodyguard might be noble, but it gets boring after the initial shock. It’s all paperwork and room watching. This is way more interesting.
“Actually…” Indigo shakes her head. “I want to know what you are talking about. Why are you talking about me?”
I can’t stop myself. I whistle, impressed at her strong spirit as I drop into the couch. It’s absolutely disgusting, smelling like twenty years of indoor smoking, but then again, every piece of furniture in this dump is gross.
“Were you really listening to us?” Nash asks with his eyebrows raised.
The little Omega has the decency to flush, but it lasts a second. She soon regains that spitfire personality and shrugs at Nash.
“I was coming here to talk to you—” She frowns. “Not necessarily you, but whoever, and then I heard my name.”
Nash nodded. “So you know I was asking about last night. I found Hank soaked head to toe, and I wanted to know what happened.”
Indigo swallows a lump in her throat, gears spinning fast behind her eyes. She doesn’t trust us, and honestly, good for her. She shouldn’t trust anyone after all she’s been through.
She doesn’t know that Hank would jump after anyone if he thought they were in danger. He’s a nice guy like that. But damn, I hope she also doesn’t notice his eyes lingering as he watches her. I don’t blame him. She’s fucking gorgeous.
“You didn’t sound like you believed him.” She surprises me by saying it. “Is there a reason you didn’t believe him?”
Nash arches an eyebrow, and I chuckle. Damn, not even Nash is above suspicion. Go, little Omega, go. Nash is soft-spoken, easygoing, and very committed to the job. No one has ever had beef with Nash, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.
“No, of course—”
“I lost someone to suicide,” Hank interrupts, his voice low but we all hear him loud and clear.
A gasp leaves her lips as she turns around to face him. I can’t see her face from here, but I can bet money she’s shocked beyond belief.
“I–I…” She searches for words.
Hank shakes his head and lifts his palm to stop the inevitable apology that will come out of her mouth. Everyone is always so damn sorry. Words don’t bring the dead back, though.
“Nash was checking if something really happened or if I just freaked out.” Hank frowns down to his feet before facing her once again. “And obviously it was me. I made the wrong decision and jumped to a conclusion. I’m sorry for ruining your swimming.”
Oh damn, Hank spoke more than three words, and each one of them was good and proper. No one talks about death so bluntly as him, and it is no surprise when she shuffles on her feet and her perfume changes just slightly.
That’s another thing I don’t get about Indigo.
How can I always detect her perfume in a room full of Omegas?
Even on our first day here, I smelled her before I saw her face with those big beautiful eyes.
Not that the others don’t have their own perfume.
They do. The day we had brownies for dessert, the place smelled like a candy shop.
They were so damn pleased. But Sour Peach over here?
I can detect her in the middle of a crowd.
“I’m sorry if I triggered you, I-I never meant. I just.” She pauses and shakes her head.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” Hank cuts her off.
It comes out gruff, his eyebrows furrowed and arms folded against his chest. I cringe when she winces slightly at his tone. I hope she caught on that Hank isn’t a smooth talker, but he’s a good person.
“I like to be alone, and there’s never time to be alone anywhere around here,” she explains herself anyway.
Damn, I can sympathize with her. This place is a fucking box in the middle of nowhere.
There are Omegas everywhere I look. There’s always chatter, always laughter.
I love that they have reasons to smile, but sometimes a guy just wants to read a book in peace.
It’s fucking extreme to find solitude at the bottom of a pool, but hey, you do you.
When no one says anything to her explanation, Indigo tucks her chin down and starts for the door.
Something in me stirs, telling me I should offer her a solution, words…
something. Fuck me, I’m not the guy you come to for helpful tips.
Everyone with a brain knows that, yet my heart lurches after her, begging me to get her to stop.
Stop and what, asshole?
My hands ball into a fist, but I don’t make a move, and in the end, I don’t need to, because my pack brother turns out to be way softer than me.
“Maybe we can find a way to give you a little more privacy,” Nash calls out, making her stop in her tracks. There are a lot of places around here. Maybe we can find a room just for you? Or get somewhere you can sit away and recharge?”
Damn, Sour Peach is really getting the preferential treatment around here. While I want to laugh and make fun of Nash for promising something I’m almost sure he can’t deliver, I don’t have it in me to wipe the small smile forming on her lips.
Delicious sugary decadent peach perfume floods the room. Indigo tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, and fuck me, how can someone look this sweet and be so prickly at the same time?
“That would be…”
She shakes her head, as if she’s at a loss for words, yet her perfume says it all.
All that sugar heats the room until it’s all I can scent.
Her perfume locks me in place, like vines curling around my limbs.
I’m paralyzed, jaw slack, taking a lungful of her.
It goes up my nose, down my lungs, and straight to my cock.
Fuck me.
She watches us with expectation, not a suspicion in her eyes.
It’s a first for Indigo. The more she looks at us, the more we please her, the less I can think.
Every ticking second in this office happens in slow motion, like watching the movie of your life before all goes to hell.
Her perfume is like a punch to my stomach.
She weakens me more than an Alpha three times her size could.
I double over, elbows over my knees, trying to hide the cock tenting my jeans because damn if I’ll scare her when this is the first genuine smile she gave anyone who wasn’t Journey.
An invisible tether pulls me toward her, connecting us so tightly I can’t breathe. I shake my head, trying to put space between me and this feeling, but she’s painted in my brain, inked in my skin.
What the fuck is happening?
When I try to stand, I sway on my feet. Sucking in a breath, I try to think straight, but she’s a wave washing every rational thought.
“What is happening?” I snarl like a beast.
It’s not my best moment, but the words are not coming together like I want them to. There’s an ache inside me, an emptiness that begs to be filled by her.
Indigo gasps at my tone and steps back, as if she has no idea everything changed from the moment she smiled at us. I expect her to know what magical spell she put on me, but it’s Nash who replies.
“We just scent-matched.”