Chapter 6
Flora
The handsome stranger’s jacket was slung over my desk chair, taunting me. It had been a moment of madness when I decided to wear it out, but I’d loved it.
I should have found a way to give it back to him, but I had no idea how to go about it. He’d left me in my apartment after checking I was safe, still wearing his jacket, taser in hand.
The weapon he had given me was permanently in my bag. Knowing I had it gave me comfort—I doubted I would ever need it, though. Between that and the jacket, I was more at ease than I had been in weeks.
The peace of mind the taser gave me was nothing compared to the pumpkin bread scent that clung to the jacket.
Every time I had put the damn thing down to study or tidy my apartment, I kept gravitating back to it, running my hands over the soft leather or lifting it to my nose to take a deep sniff.
I had even worn the jacket the day before to the library to study.
There was something about that warm scent enveloping me that just made me feel a million times more comfortable and safe.
Even the coffee shop, which was usually overstimulating and stressful, felt much easier.
I had to resist the urge to add the jacket to my nest. Picking up the jacket for probably the hundredth time as I paced around my place, I eyed my nest. It really would be an excellent addition.
What were the chances I would meet the handsome stranger again? They seemed minimal, so would keeping the jacket in my happy place really be a bad thing?
Shaking my head, I put the darn thing down before padding over to my nest and crawling in.
My rundown studio apartment didn’t come with a proper nest, so I had to make do with building one on my small bed.
It was snug, but I liked that. It wasn’t like I ever had guests in there, so there was plenty of space for me.
After grabbing a few of the pillows, I started rearranging them to curl up for the evening. I had a book to read and a bag of chips that were only partially stale to snack on. As I reached for the soft, well-worn circular pink pillow, my hand closed around thin air.
Frowning, I rose to my knees, looking for the pillow I had intended to snuggle up with.
Was I losing my mind?
It was nowhere in sight.
My apartment was quite small, which limited my options for where to keep things.
While some omegas would shift their nest items around, dragging them to the couch or other cozy spots, that wasn't really my style. I firmly believed that nest items belonged in the nest. Even though mine was modest, it was easy to notice when something was missing—like the pillow that should have been there. I shuffled a few others around, hoping in vain that it might be tucked away beneath one of them, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t there.
A nest large enough to lose items in was just a dream. Maybe one day, I’d have my own big girl nest. Until then, I was a student living in a tiny apartment and an equally small nest that apparently came with vanishing pillows.
Pouting to myself, I picked up the blanket with strawberries on it and wrapped it around myself.
Maybe once I had a bit more money, I would be able to get myself some more nesting supplies.
I made a little from tutoring, and my scholarship included a small stipend for living costs.
As it was, my nest was pretty meager, and I was feeling the loss of the round pink pillow.
I had been extra forgetful of late—first, the notebook, and now, the pillow.
The lack of sleep and constant studying were clearly starting to drain me.
With my book in hand, I flicked to the first page and began reading. Reading was one of my favorite pastimes because it was the opposite of numbers. While I loved statistics and math, I needed to turn my brain off, and a sweet book was just the way to do that.
My phone started buzzing incessantly before I was a chapter in.
Sighing, I put my book down and grabbed my phone from the small table beside my nest. In the past, I’d slept with it under my pillow, but I had lost it among the blankets a few too many times.
Mom.
Trying not to pout, I weighed up my options. I had been putting off talking to my mother for the last two weeks, claiming I was busy studying. That excuse would only last so long.
After accepting the call, I pressed the speaker button and leaned back on my pillows. “Hey, Mom,” I greeted.
“Flora! Baby, I’m so glad I finally got hold of you. I swear you're always too busy for me now you're out in California.”
I ignored her subtle dig. “College is a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it.”
“You know you could have gotten a bookkeeping job here without a fancy degree—but never mind! Let’s not go down that rabbit hole again. I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. It’s been so long since we’ve heard from you.”
“Honestly, I'm exactly the same as the last time we spoke.”
I knew for a fact that my mother was secretly pleased that I didn’t have a social life. In her mind, that meant I was all the more likely to come back home after college.
“Still no heat symptoms?” she asked.
“Nope,” I lied through my teeth.
“That’s so strange, you should have had your first heat by now. Maybe when you come home, we’ll talk to Doctor Harold.”
Doctor Harold was our family doctor. An old, graying man who acted as if he came straight from the twenties.
“I’m just a late bloomer. No big deal,” I said nonchalantly, picking up my phone, crawling out of my nest, and padding toward the bathroom.
“I know, but I just want to make sure everything is working, you know?” my mom said in that condescending, parental voice.
“I’m fine, Mom. If I have any symptoms, you’ll be the first to know,” I said. “Actually, I’m exhausted…”
“Oh, look at the time! I have my book club tonight as well. Will you be coming home for the holidays?”
“I’m not sure, honestly.”
My mother tutted. “You really should prioritize family, Flora. Speaking of, I forwarded a few dating profiles for you.”
Exhaling, I closed my eyes and steeled myself for the next sentence.
My mother had taken to sending me notes from prospective alphas who were looking for an omega.
They were usually silly letters full of flattery because my mother had shown them a photo, so they were complimenting me to try to make me pay attention to them.
I wasn’t against compliments and flattery, but when it came from a photo my mother had shared with them, it fell somewhat flat.
Each sentence felt heavy, laden with expectation and pressure.
It was hard not to feel objectified, reduced to a mere photo and a string of flattering words.
And then, there was my mother’s relentless enthusiasm behind it all, as if these letters were my greatest achievement.
The letters were stuffed into one of the drawers, where I hardly paid attention to them.
“Thank you, I’ll take a look,” I lied, “but you’d better hurry, or you’ll miss book club.”
“Yes! Talk soon, darling!”
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up, taking a deep breath.
Talking to my mother was a draining experience.
I loved her dearly and always would, but we had such different views on what an omega's life should be that our conversations grew tiring.
Despite the challenges, the bond I felt with her remained strong, even if our perspectives clashed.
From my medicine cabinet, I picked up the little yellow pill bottle and turned it over in my hand.
My first heat had hit a few weeks after I started college. My mother was the last person I wanted to tell, so I kept it a secret and paid out of pocket to visit the local omega clinic and get a prescription for heat suppressants.
If she ever found out, my mother would have started pressuring me to come home and settle down. The only reason she and my fathers were slightly okay with me going away to college was that I wasn’t having heats yet.
Part of me felt bad for lying, but it was better than the alternative. The calls would be incessant… well, more so than they already were. There was an expectation that I would settle down with a pack of alphas as soon as possible because that was what my family believed to be true happiness.
My parents, while progressive in some ways, still clung tightly to these beliefs.
They would often reminisce about how they met.
It was difficult for them to understand that, even though I did ultimately want those things, I was in no rush and wanted to find alphas who understood me.
Who understood my love of numbers and studying.
I tipped one of the pills into my hand before padding into the small kitchenette area. After grabbing a bottle of water from the small fridge, I took the pill, following it with a drink.
Sighing, I put my phone down, leaving it on the tiny counter space and I ensured it was on mute, and returned to my nest to enjoy my book in some peace and quiet.
It wasn’t the same without that damn pink pillow.