Page 52 of Written in Scent

“Omega hormones are so annoying,” I mutter, voice thick. “You and your pack just bring out the absolute worst in me. I feel like I can’t even control my own body anymore.”

The words tumble out raw and honest. I don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

Jamie stays where he is, hands at his sides, giving me the space I need. He doesn’t try to touch me again. He just listens.

And for some reason that only makes the tears fall faster.

He looks around my workspace, his eyes widening as he takes it all in. The neat rows of specimen drawers, the array of pinning tools lined up like surgical instruments, the labeled ethanol jars, the stacks of worksheets covered in my tiny handwriting. The organized chaos of it all seems to surprise him in the best way.

He points to one of the moths I haven’t pinned yet, one with the mottled gray wings and delicate markings.

“What’s this one?” he asks gently, his voice sounding genuinely curious.

I blink, caught off guard by the simple question. But something in me unclenches. I pick up the specimen with the forceps and hold it out so he can see.

“It’s a common gray moth,” I tell him. “They’re everywhere in the fall. Their camouflage is incredible against tree bark.”

Jamie nods like that answer matters to him. He pulls up a stool from the next bench, settles onto it, and leans his elbows on the counter. He doesn’t speak again. He just listens.

The knot in my chest loosens a little more.

I turn back to my work and continue pinning while I talk. I tell him about each specimen as I handle it. The way certain beetles have iridescent shells that shift color in the light. How some moths have tiny scales that come off like dust when you touch them. The difference between the mouthparts of a butterfly and a mosquito.

Jamie asks thoughtful questions in between. Real ones, not the kind people ask when they are pretending to be interested. He wants to know why some wings have eyespots, what the pins are made of, and how long the specimens last in the drawers.

And for the first time since he walked into the lab, I feel myself calming down. The tears dry on my cheeks. My hands stop shaking. The restless ache in my chest eases into something easier.

It feels surprisingly comfortable having him here.

He’s not trying to impress me or fix anything or push for more. He’s simply sitting with me in my world, listening while I lose myself in the small, precise work I love.

For a little while, the lab feels less empty in a good way.

And I’m not sure what to do with how much I like that.

I feel like maybe I should be asking him things too. “What do you study?” His gaze lightens with the attention, his dimples showing.

“Media studies. Pretty basic, I know. But I just like filming things and it’s the only way to get a degree and do that at the same time.”

Jamie glances at the clock on the wall, then back at me.

“I have some editing work I need to get done tonight,” he says, his voice tentative. “The lacrosse footage from earlier.”

A surprising flicker of disappointment moves through me at the thought of him leaving. The lab suddenly feels too quiet again, too empty… I don’t want to be left alone to examine why that is.

Before I can say anything, he adds, “Would it be OK if I worked on it here with you? I can be really quiet. I promise.”

I look at him for a long moment. He’s not pushing, not trying to turn this into anything more than what it is. He’s simply asking if he can stay in my space.

I feel myself smile, small and genuine.

“I’d like that,” I tell him.

Jamie’s face brightens. He reaches down and pulls his laptop from his bag, setting it up on the far end of my desk so he’s not crowding my workspace. Within moments he is focused on the screen, headphones half on so he can still hear the music playing faintly from my speaker.

I go back to my pinning, the familiar rhythm returning. The lab settles into a comfortable coziness, made even better by the soft music and the occasional click of my tools.

I don’t even realize I have started singing along again until Jamie joins in.