Eventually, he puts his phone down and says, “I’d like to talk to you about something.” My stomach twists, knowing what he’s about to say. “So, we’ve been together for almost a year.”
I sit up too quickly, knocking over the bowl of popcorn in the process. “I actually need to go.”
Not again.
Always my heat.
Always.
Panic bleeds into his handsome face. “What’s wrong?” He tries to reach for me but I manage to avoid his touch. “Sophie, it’s late. You don’t have to leave. Stay here, we can get breakfast in the morning. There’s a place downstairs that has the fluffiest pancakes.”
Every other time an alpha brings up my heat, I pretend to make plans with him till I can end the date as early as possible and never see him again, but I can’t lie to Hunter like that. His earnest expression of concern is too sweet, too honest.
I hate the frown he wears and the way his eyebrows knit together as if he’s racking his brain for what he possibly could have done wrong to make me leave like this.
It’s just the way it is.
When I start looking for new clients after my heat, I’m only going to select boring alphas with more money than personality, ones obsessed with their golf scores and crypto. Alphas who understand this is mutually beneficial and based on temporary factors.
Alphas who don’t look at me likethat.
I can tell he wants to say more, do more, but he’s not the type of guy who will push. I gather my belongings, flinging them in the oversized purse I brought. Hunter follows me to the door, shoulders slumped.
When I turn to face his hesitant smile, I add, “I had a really good time tonight.”
Hope returns to his eyes and he says, “I’ll be gone next week for work but I can see you soon.” He stares at the ceiling as if collecting his words before looking at me again. “If I did anything?—”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly. “This has been fun, as always. You’re a really great guy, Hunt.”
That boyish grin is real again. “Maybe we can get dinner next week? My friend opened up a great new restaurant. I think you might like it. I know they have all your favorite foods.”
My stomach twists at the reminder of another alpha like him. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.” I reach up to kiss his cheek, wondering if he can sense the lie I’ve whispered against his skin.
He leans into it, but when he pulls back, he scans my face, his eyebrows tugged down, as if he can tell I’ve already retreated and there’s nothing he can do to get me back.
Chapter 4
Zachary
Sunday
Ablack luxury car pulls up to my place and my heart surges with excitement. The door opens and Emilie appears. I quickly step up to her, offering my hand, which she takes as she delicately steps out of the vehicle.
She’s so beautiful.
Her pink strawberry sweater is cut low, revealing the swell of her full breasts. Her shiny brown hair drapes down the middle of her back. Tonight, she’s wearing a short white skirt with pink stockings that lead down to pink stilettos so high, I almost don’t have to lean down to kiss her. Almost.
Work has been stressful this week. Meetings with lawyers and budget analysts asking me to review spreadsheets I have no interest in. Now that she’s here, though, that all fades away.
I wrap my arms around her and those omega pheromones hit my brain like electricity before relaxing every part of me. Sure, any omega would probably have that effect on mostalphas, but with her, it’s different. She does something to my soul.
I don’t even kiss her right away. I just bury my nose into her temple and breathe deep, wondering for the thousandth time what her real scent is. Ignoring that irritating voice in the back of my head telling me I might never know.
Emilie has made it quite clear that she loves her job as a sugar baby and I’ll take as little or as much of her as she’ll give me.
Sunday nights are always my favorite, but there never seems to be enough time with her. I kiss her forehead and she lets out a happy sigh, leaning into my touch. I break away, giving enough space for her soft lips to find mine. Fireworks go off in my chest at her taste, her essence. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. I like to imagine that she feels what I do about us, but I know what this is.
Still, it’s easier to pretend.
