Chapter 1 #3
He didn’t join me right away, heading up to the counter first. It was only when he had an iced coffee in his hand that he finally made his way over.
“You must be Roxie, because I don’t see anybody else in here with impeccable fashion taste,” he teased.
“Guilty,” I agreed as I gestured to my outfit.
His eyes raked over me, taking in the band tee I had under my blazer. It was hidden well enough when it was buttoned, but now that it was hanging loose it was on display.
“I have a feeling that this is not how you usually dress.”
“No,” I snorted, “but sometimes we have to make a good impression.”
He pulled out his seat and finally sat. Now that we were closer, his scent wafted over to me.
We both froze at the same time. There was no fucking way.
My lips parted as I sucked in a greedy breath, needing more of it. His scent was intoxicating. A robust red wine, with sweet and tart undertones of cherry and plum. It was rich and decadent, and I wanted more of it.
“Well… this certainly complicates things,” he said, blinking over at me. I wasn’t even sure how to respond. My omega was practically shoving against me, pushing me closer, but I’d tensed to hold myself in place.
An omega scent-match. It wasn’t necessarily unheard of, but it was still fairly rare. Usually, omegas didn’t end up scent-matched to omegas, and the packs that tried to force two omegas were usually greedy alphas who didn’t care if their omegas were miserable.
My omega, however, was practically panting for the sexy omega across from me.
“You smell incredible,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. The omega was battling something, which had me keeping my reaction locked down tight. “I’m not the kind to jump into a relationship. Not after…” He trailed off.
That told me without words that there was far more to the story.
“Look,” I said easily. “There’s, of course, no rush here. I’m moving in a month and getting established in the city, and starting a job that’s going to be fairly intensive.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to or don’t find you attractive,” he promised, his eyes trailing over me again, “because I definitely fucking do. I just…”
The pain in his eyes spoke volumes.
“No need for explanations. If things happen, they happen, but we can start with friends,” I offered. “I would still really love it if we could be roommates… if you’re still open to it.”
“I’d like that. It sounds lame to say that I’m… complicated.”
“Sometimes complicated fits,” I chuckled. “We’ll just stay in touch, work out whatever we need to work out in the meantime, and then see how it goes once I move in.”
“That would be perfect. Here, let me give you my number so we can actually text and not just talk through a forum.”
I slid my phone over so he could just put himself in it. He added himself and slid it back as silence fell between us. Neither of us could figure out how to move on from this revelation.
“It’ll get easier,” I promised. “We’ll figure it all out.”
He nodded and grasped at a subject change. “So, Roxie, what do you do for work?”
“I’m a journalist. I run The Gathering Place if you’ve heard of it?”
His eyes widened. “Holy shit. My future roommate is famous.”
“Hardly,” I laughed. “We’re still trying to get off the ground, but I just took a job opportunity that could make that happen a bit faster.”
“What’s the job?” he questioned.
“How acquainted are you with hockey?” I asked.
His expression darkened, and I chuckled. “Yeah, my sentiments exactly. However, when they put that much money behind an offer, I can’t really turn it down.”
“Let’s just say hockey and I have a bad history,” he offered. “But I know enough, especially after that whole neglected omega story last year.”
“That’s exactly why I’m here,” I explained. “My best friend was that neglected omega. She lived here in North Crossing at the time.”
“Oh, wow,” he gasped, the conversation already easier as our nerves settled. “is she okay now?”
“Oh, yeah,” I promised. “Her new pack is everything those assholes thought they were. But after I wrote that piece things haven’t exactly looked good for the Narwhals.”
He snorted. “I imagine not.”
“They hired me to tell the world what the Narwhals are like behind closed doors. I get to trail them and interview the players and coaches, try to give the world a view they don’t usually see.
I wrote it in the contract that I would report the truth, good or bad, and shockingly the owner agreed to it. ”
“Wow,” he said.
“‘Wow’ indeed,” I agreed, as I sipped my latte. “It’s up to them to prove they’re good people or not. I just report the facts and get paid to do it.”
He grinned. “I love that for you.”
It was crazy how we already felt like old friends, the conversation flowing easily as we gossiped about our lives.
With the amount of pain I saw in his eyes I wasn’t sure if it would shift to more as time went on, but either way, in a month I’d officially be living in North Crossing with my scent-match roommate and navigating a new job.
The start of a new era indeed.