Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
________
EVA
The cheese fries were better than last year. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but it was.
Eva
Fries were bomb, by the way.
Sloane
So jealous. I’m going to have to order cheese fries and they won’t be nearly as good so I’ll be sad AND jealous.
I covered my mouth so my laugh didn’t disrupt the show.
We were nearing the end when the bigger awards were announced.
Only a couple more performances and awards, and then I could go home.
There was probably an after party I could go to, but I wasn’t in the mood.
I wanted to snuggle down into something comfortable and relax.
At the edge of the seating, I saw Jasmine appear and nod her head. Waiting until there were no live cameras on my section, I slipped away and allowed a pretty Beta to take my seat. The volunteers made it look like the show was always full of people, despite many of us having to duck in and out.
“Teeth?” I asked Jasmine as I handed her my phone and clutch.
“You’re good.”
“Thanks.” We made our way backstage, and it was different from past years. Normally the venue was so thoroughly soaked in scent canceller that everything smelled pristine. This time they must have lit a candle or something, because it smelled amazing.
I stepped out of the way of the background singers who had just come off stage. “Jas, you know who sets everything up back here, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Whatever candle or air freshener they have back here is incredible. You smell that? Like apple cinnamon. Maybe a bit of mint? I can’t quite tell. But if you can find out what it is, I’d love to know.”
She stared at me for a second. “Eva—”
One of the stagehands spotted me. “Miss Williams, this way.”
Security guarded the envelopes containing the winners to make sure they weren’t tampered with.
But just like with everything else about the DCAs, it was more casual.
There were still some presenters from earlier back here chatting and hanging out.
Crew ran back and forth prepping things.
The rock band performing after my award presentation was gearing themselves up in the corner.
A sharp woman in a suit handed me the envelope for Best Supporting Actor and a small note with all the nominees.
“Prompter is in the middle if you need it.”
I smiled. “I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”
“Three minutes until your cue.” The stagehand was back, and she gestured me toward the edge of the heavy curtains.
The Maher Concert Hall was one of the biggest venues in Slate City.
Not as big as some of the ones in Concordia or elsewhere, but Slate City loved hosting the DCAs, and I hoped they never moved.
Yet another reason to love this show: it was nice to have an event I didn’t need to travel to.
Jasmine touched my elbow. “Eva, are you okay?”
I frowned. “I’m amazing, why?”
“Because you said you wanted a candle? But there’s no candle back here.”
Shrugging, I walked backwards toward where they were waiting for me. “So it’s not a candle? But you have to smell that. I want my whole apartment to smell like that.”
“But—” her face turned to panic and she stepped toward me, “watch out.”
The words were too late. I bumped into something hard and metal and full speed, the momentum and my high heels too much to come back from.
Fuck.
I closed my eyes, prepared to make sure I was quiet after the fall… but I never hit the ground. Arms caught me, that strange hard surface pressing into my side.
“Woah,” a voice said. “Sorry about that.”
I stared at the man who caught me as he steadied me on my feet. One of the men from the rock band going on after me. What was their name again?
Dark hair that fell over his forehead and blue eyes filled with concern. He had a bass guitar strapped to him. That must have been the thing I ran into.
That delicious scent of cinnamon-tinted apples was so much stronger now. It was so weird that they’d have something so strong back here…
The man’s hands were still on my arms, steadying me. He searched my face. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I managed. Then I inhaled.
The scent burned. Seared. Tore through me and remade me in the space of seconds. It was the only thing I ever wanted to breathe. Other scents melded with it and only made it better. Bourbon and mint and citrus and maple syrup.
Perfume exploded around me.
Perfume, when I’d never perfumed for anyone.
Not outside of my heats. Plus, the suppressants helped with that. But this? There was no controlling it. Pure longing and instinct.
Less than a second had passed, and my world no longer made any sense.
The Alpha’s eyes widened, his fingers tightening on my arms. He looked just as struck as I was. All of them. All four of them stared at me the way I was staring at them. Like we were in a bubble completely locked away from the rest of the universe.
“Miss Williams,” the stagehand whispered, tone urgent. “We need you now.”
But I couldn’t move. This was…
Oh fuck. This was scent-sympathy. The Alphas in front of me were my scent matches. And everything I ever thought I’d do in this situation decided to evaporate like mist in the morning. Or sweat on skin.
Shit, I shouldn’t be thinking about sweat right now. Or anything to do with skin. Their skin, my skin, anyone’s skin.
Does his skin taste like cinnamon?
A whole brand new wave of perfume rolled
“Miss Williams.”
Jasmine touched me on the shoulder and firmly pushed me away from the Alpha and his guitar, toward the bright lights and the stage. I couldn’t look away from him, though. I couldn’t walk away. I couldn’t—
“Eva,” Jasmine said. “You’re about to be the cause of dead air. Get out on stage. They will be here when you get back.”
“Jasmine,” I whined without choosing to do so.
“I know. I knew the second you smelled a candle that doesn’t exist. The way they look tells me you’re all in the same boat. Now trust me and get the fuck out on stage.”
Right. Right.
I turned and tried to find some kind of poise. Any kind. Good luck with that, Eva. Every single piece of my Omega felt like she was stepping on broken glass walking away from them.
You’re not walking away. You’re just taking a brief intermission. Before…
Nope. I couldn’t think about any of the things that came after. Because then the entire auditorium would be filled with perfume, and that would be hard to explain.
The stagehand gave my cue, and it was only muscle memory that pasted my smile on as I walked out under the bright lights to a wave of applause.
I was about to eat my words. Having the teleprompter there was a fucking lifesaver.
“Every year, a group of actors charm us, steal the scene, and win our hearts. Here are the nominees for Favorite Supporting Actor.”
The reel of the nominees began to play, giving me a few seconds to breathe. One look back at the entrance of the stage showed me them. Jasmine stood in front of them as if she’d had to stop them from following me onto the stage. The pull toward them was physical.
Every story I’d ever heard about scent matching was nothing compared to this.
The lights came back up, and I smiled into the camera, sliding my finger under the golden envelope’s flap. “And the winner is… Carson Lord.”
I smiled as Carson stood and made his way to the stage. He was a friend, both of us having been thrown into the same kind of roles for years. We’d probably done more movies with each other than with any other actor.
He grinned and pulled me into a hug before he stiffened. “You okay?” A whisper.
“Why?”
A soft laugh as he pulled back. “You know I love you, but I also know all that perfume isn’t for me.”
I swallowed. “Backstage…”
He smiled and kissed my cheek. “You can tell me about it later.”
Right. We were in front of about a thousand people. Carson took his trophy from one of the attendants and stepped forward to make his speech. I wished I could pay attention. But every sense I had was overwhelmed and trying to pull me back to where I’d left them standing.
Even here, I could sense drifting tendrils of their incredible scents.
Mine.
The lights began to dim, the audience clapped, and Carson ushered me off the stage. Over the speakers I heard, “Please welcome, Mindless Delirium.”
Mindless Delirium.
That was their name, and they were walking toward us onto the stage.
Just them coming in this direction had waves of scent flowing over me that made my knees weak.
Bourbon and mint and mandarin. A whine slipped out, and the bass player, the one who caught me, grabbed my hand as I passed in the darkness.
“Don’t leave. Please.” His voice sounded every bit as desperate as I felt.
“Not a fucking chance.”
A flash of a smile and he was gone, taking his place on the stage before their drummer counted them in, the lights blazed, and music poured out of them. Damn, they were good.
Carson stepped up beside me. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. That wasn’t true. I did know. It was so fast I didn’t even know their names. I still had to get through the rest of the show. There were a million reasons why this was the worst possible time, and I didn’t care. “But I think they’re mine.”