Chapter Sixteen
Mark
As expected, I don’t hear anything from Ava. So I try to fill my day with running errands, working out, and laundry in an attempt to do anything besides look at my phone. Her walls are firmly back in place, and they’ll stay that way unless we end up in bed together again.
Thanks, Adam.
Even as I think it, I know it isn’t fair. Adam’s cutting remark may have been the catalyst, but it wouldn’t have made an impact if Ava wasn’t already primed to push me away. The only person in this world that can make her do anything is herself.
It’s up to me to decide if I want to keep playing.
My date with Marnie looms over me, feeling more like a chore than something worth being excited about.
Which tells me it will only be the one date.
My initial instinct was right, I can’t drag someone else into this, but I’m not going to back out of plans at the last minute.
Plus, I owe myself one attempt to at least see how it goes.
Who knows, maybe she’ll be my scent match, and Ava Kendrick will cease to matter.
I’m not hopeful. Since I woke up I’ve felt queasy, like I’m about to have an affair.
Finally, it’s late enough in the day that I need to get dressed.
I’ve sent her a few messages to confirm plans and say hi, and she really does seem sweet.
I pull on a pair of faded, well-worn jeans and a soft cable-knit sweater layered over a plaid button-up.
Casual enough for a coffee date, but still shows a little bit of effort.
The subway ride to Brooklyn, where Marnie lives, is my one shot at quieting my nerves. Headphones in, audiobook on. I let the narrator’s voice fill the space in my head so my thoughts can’t.
The car’s packed today with the Sunday crowd, families and couples out enjoying a beautiful fall day.
I give up my seat to an elderly couple and reach up to grip the pole with one hand, swaying as the train moves.
More people press in at the next stop, and the person next to me smells strongly of coffee.
I wonder if it’s their biological scent or if they’re just that big of a coffee drinker.
The subway is sort of an assault on the senses.
It wouldn’t be so bad if the Transit Authority would properly maintain the scent neutralizers, but they always seem to be broken.
The train lurches forward, then stalls, and we all collectively groan.
Hopefully it’s only a brief delay. I should have just taken a cab.
I’m trying very hard to not take this as a sign.
Maybe I should have asked her to meet in Central Park instead.
Open air and sunshine. The thought barely finishes forming before I shake it off.
That would have been a lot to ask her for a first date.
From her place, that would be a whole trek across the city—an hour if the trains behaved and longer if they didn’t.
No, I’m the one that asked her on the date, so I should be the one to travel.
It seems like the gentlemanly thing to do.
I check my phone, even though I know the time hasn’t changed much. Luckily, the train starts moving again, and I take a deep breath. Just a few more stops.
Once I arrive at the coffee shop, I spot Marnie almost right away. She waves at me, a friendly smile plastered on her face. She’s wearing an oversized sweater over a short sundress, and there’s an actual, honest-to-god ribbon tied neatly into her long, curly blonde ponytail.
Am I on a date with a Disney princess?
Not that I mind. She’s beautiful. A year ago, her luscious curves and bright blue eyes would have snagged my attention and probably held it.
Now, though… my alpha side stirs with a low grumble, and I shut the thought down before it finishes forming.
I return her smile. “Hey. You beat me here.”
“Not by much. It isn’t like you’re late or anything,” she says warmly, stepping into me for a hug. I know what she’s doing: a quick scent check. I get it. I’m curious too, so I breathe in deeply.
Her scent is pleasant enough. Lemongrass and something warm and bright that reminds me of sunshine. Lighter than most omegas’ scents. It doesn’t hit me in the chest or fog my head, though. If anything, it’s easy to take in. My alpha bristles at the attempt, more annoyed than interested.
This omega is not my mate.
Marnie pulls back, and I catch the quick flicker of disappointment that crosses her face. I’m pretty sure she felt the same lack of click. I offer her a soft, understanding smile and gesture toward the menu. We both know now, but I won’t let it ruin the mood.
“Sorry, this was on such short notice,” I say.
She recovers quickly, grin back in place. “Oh, it’s totally fine. I love meeting new people. Let’s get our drinks, and then we can chat.”
“Have you been here before? I’m a sucker for their cortados.”
She nods, then blushes. “Kind of. I’ve had their stuff delivered. This place is pretty close to my family’s business.”
We step up to the counter and order. Lavender oat milk latte for her, cortado with honey and cream for me. Then we find a small table by the window.
She wraps her hands around her cup. “So, tell me about yourself, Mark. What do you do?”
I clear my throat. This question always puts me in a weird spot. I’m proud of what I do, but it can change the vibe fast. “Uh. I’m the Manhattan District Attorney.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh my god. I knew you looked familiar. My grandma is obsessed with watching your cases on TV. That must be such a wild job.”
The conversation flows easily from there.
Marnie is incredibly easy to talk to. She tells me about helping her family run a crystal shop that’s surprisingly successful.
“There are a lot of witchy types in this city,” she says with a laugh.
“Mom and Dad are even talking about opening a second location. Ya know, when I can run it myself and I’m not stuck living with them. ”
I frown. “Why do you have to wait?”
Her brows knit together. “Well, I’m unbonded. I’m not allowed to have a retail job on my own. I can only work when my dad or brothers are around. The whole omega protection laws. You probably know all that stuff, right? Because of the lawyer thing?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Uh, not really. I mostly prosecute criminal cases—murder, theft, whatnot. I don’t interact with that side of the law too much.”
“Well, except for that suppressant case. With the heiress,” she says. “I think I saw you on the news for that one.” There’s no judgment in her voice. Somehow, that makes it worse.
“Yeah, the mayor sort of strong-armed me on that one,” I admit. “For what it’s worth, I think the suppressant laws are bullshit. We should be funding real research instead of punishing the people who need them.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh my god, yes. I bet if we had real suppressants, we wouldn’t have to plan our whole lives around heat cycles or panic about alphas losing control.
The laws about where we can work or go to school would have to change, too.
” She sounds so hopeful, like she can already visualize a different world.
It makes me feel… gross.
I think about the donors I charm at fundraisers, the ones who smile and nod when people talk about ‘protecting omegas’ like it’s some noble cause. Does it really go this far? Limiting where and when they can work? How did I not know this?
Saying it’s not my area because it isn’t criminal law feels like a cop-out. I probably did know, in some vague, abstract way. I just never stopped to think about what it looked like in someone’s actual life. Because I didn’t have to. I don’t know any omegas.
Jesus. I’m such a stereotype. Typical white man, comfortable enough in my privilege that I don’t have to think about what other people might face.
And then I think of Ava. She knows all of this. She fights it. Loudly. Constantly.
I say I love her, and yet I’ve never really sat with the thing she cares about most.
Marnie’s voice breaks through. “You just suddenly got quiet. You okay?” Her voice is full of genuine concern, and she reaches across the table to place a hand on top of mine.
I nod, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I got lost in thought. I’ve never really considered how much oversight there is on the day-to-day for omegas. And I feel like an asshole.”
Her smile is a little sad at the edges. “You probably don’t know very many then, huh?” she says softly.
I grimace sheepishly. “No, I don’t. I’m from a really small town, and there weren’t even many alphas, let alone omegas.
When I moved away for college, I was too busy to get to know anyone properly.
Plus, um,” I blush, rubbing the back of my neck.
“If I’m being honest, most of omegas’ scents are kind of a lot to me. So I tend to avoid them.”
Her laugh is gentle and understanding, and I realize I’ve just admitted something I’ve never told anyone else. I smile at her. “You have a knack for getting people to open up to you, huh? I’ve never said that out loud before.”
She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people.”
She guides the conversation to a different topic, and I find myself relaxing and enjoying talking to her.
There isn’t anything romantic here, so I won’t pursue another date.
But there is something refreshing about her straightforward honesty and positive outlook. I hope she’ll consider being my friend.
Marnie chats about her plans to eventually run the new shop, the quirks of her family, and the odd mix of their customers they see. I laugh, contribute my own anecdotes, and find myself genuinely sad to bring the evening to an end.
By the time we finish, the setting sun is spilling across the wooden floors, and the coffee shop is starting to wind down. I stand and offer her another hug.
She returns it warmly and sincerely. “Thanks for meeting me,” she says. “I hope we can do it again sometime. I know we aren’t mates or anything, but I enjoyed this.”