It's so utterly unfair.
Of course, he's smooth as a marble sculpture, every inch of him lean, lick-able muscle.
I'm not.
A blasting, frigid surge of sadness blows in like a cold front, and all my distraction work is undone in a millisecond. Half frozen, self-loathing sleet drips down my ribs.
Shut up, Brylee! This is a happy moment. Don't ruin it.
But the emotions swell like dark clouds. Quick. Swirling. Heavy.
And then he notices the sheen on my eyes.
Before I can blink the traitorous tears that sprang up out of nowhere away, he's in front of me, cupping my cheeks, staring down at me with his whisky-colored eyes.
I drink in that gaze, becoming befuddled when he asks, "What's wrong?"
I try to swallow my answer because it feels stupid and petty, and I have no idea why these emotions are so intense right now. Is this what being in heat feels like? If so, fuck that. But those whisky eyes work their magic, and an honest answer spills out of me.
"You're too perfect. And I'm not."
His lower lip juts as he shakes his head. "Sweet girl, you have no idea how perfect you are."
His hands trace down either side of my neck and then slowly over my shoulders, the touch featherlight, but it makes my nerve endings absolutely sing. Each point of contact is sunshine bright, and I react by pushing closer, leaning into him as if his touch is the cure for my melancholy.
He indulges me by caressing more, dragging his hands up and down as he says, "You're an incredible balance of gentle and strong. What you did for your brother? That was so selfless and sweet that it takes my breath away. And you're by far the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. One look at you and my chest is in tatters like I've taken machine-gun fire to the heart."
That metaphor does it. It breaks up all the burgeoning sadness with a choked, thick chuckle.
"Oh my god. Did you get that line from one of your omega-seduction lessons? It's terrible."
He laughs, and that sound is so light and airy that it dispels and unwinds many of those negative snarls inside me. "No. I'm full of debonair compliments."
"Machine-gun fire to the heart." I give a tiny snort, and he squeezes my shoulders playfully.
"Yes. Right here." He sweeps down, grabs my hand, and holds it up to his chest.
His heartbeat quickens at my touch, and it brings a shy smile to my lips to feel the proof of his cheesy words.
"It may not be elegant, but it's true," he replies, before gripping my hand and returning to our quest. But now that he's found a way to lighten my mood, he can't seem to help himself. "I guess I could have compared you to something worse."
"Like what?" I challenge.
"Like…oh, this one. Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears." Luka starts to chuckle at the end of the groany pickup line. "I watched my cousin get punched in the face by an omega's boyfriend for using that one on her."
His laughter unlocks my own, and my body bleeds away tension, resetting as I reply, "Seems like a reasonable reason to punch someone."
"It was. Bruce was a ridiculous flirt back in the day. Of course, he's got an omega mate now, and three boys. I can't wait for you to meet him."
My throat squeezes and my chest grows warm at the thought of getting introduced to Luka's family. The off-handed certainty with which he talked about introducing us… He has no idea what that means to me.
Luka finds the right door.
"Finally!" he exclaims as he flicks on a light switch and leads me into a bathroom roughly the size of Ted and Caran's entire apartment.
White marble with black accents, and there's a tub that looks like a shallow swimming pool off to our right.
And the shower… The entire ceiling looks like it's one long, perforated metal strip. I bet, when it's turned on, it resembles a waterfall.
