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“What?” I ask, cheeks heating. “You’re conventionally attractive.”

“Umm, thanks?” He stares at me.

Silence stretches. Why is my heart racing?

His smartwatch chimes and I exhale. Saved by the literal bell.

He frowns at the screen. “Shit. I better go. Your little wax routine made me late.”

I roll my eyes and hold out my fist. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He bumps it, then paddles in, leaving me adrift.

2 ALDEN

There are over a hundred steps from the beach to the bluff, and I second-guess every single one of them. I want to turn back and ask Ty why he looked so sad, ask him if he really finds me attractive, if there’s something more to the chemistry he insists is just a mirage.

But I don’t.

The worst part about being in love with my best friend is knowing that he wants nothing to do with me, even when his body tells him otherwise. Sure, there’ve been moments when I thought maybe he saw something more in me: a lingering look, the spice in his scent when I bumped into him on a snack run during Niall’s heat. But he’s never acknowledged it.

That kiss when he was on the verge of rut doesn’t count. He rejected me so swiftly and completely that he left no room for doubt. I’ll never confess my true feelings or violate the boundaries he set.

My heart splintered that night, and it won’t survive another rejection. Our friendship won’t either. But I can’t share the same space, let alone the same beach with him smoldering away like that while he masks my scent with coconut like he’s punishing me.

At the top of the stairs, I suck down a lungful of Tyler-free air and dart between a gap in traffic, bare feet burning on the asphalt. A bodybuilder jogs past me toward the beach, leaving behind a trail of polished leather that stings my nose. It’s a perfectly fine scent, but it’s not Niall’s lily. Or Tyler’s sea salt.

It’s like my nose is broken or I’ve got a cold. Everyone else smells wrong.

My therapist keeps telling me I need to focus on an omega who’s actually interested in me, instead of my grumpy alpha roommate.

I need someone who makes me smile instead of weighing me down, but untangling myself from Tyler feels more painful than keeping him, and if there’s an omega out there meant for me, I haven’t found him.

Maybe we’re codependent, or maybe I’m dependent because he seems to do just fine without me.

The wind sweeps down from the hills and out to sea, bending the palm trees, and threatening to rip the magenta bougainvillea off our fence. Every time we get a spell of Santa Ana winds, I worry the massive vine is going to blow away like a tumbleweed, but somehow it remains.

I trudge up the deck stairs to the door and lean my board against the wall, then reach into my pocket—that isn’t there because I was too damn flustered to change out of my wet suit or even remember I need help getting out of it.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

It takes five minutes to climb over the deck rail, shimmy across the narrow fencing, and squirm through the side window, partially because my neighbor, a very thirsty octogenarian widow, asked me how I found myself in such a predicament. I almost asked her to unzip my wet suit, but erred on MacGuyvering myself out of it instead.

By the time I’m naked, I’m sweating, annoyed, and running late for my date with Elliott. I turn the shower on. My phone pings.

Heat Seekers App:

@Elliott: secure text message.

Another ping.

@Elliott: secure voice message.

My stomach churns with nerves as I open the app. What if he’s calling to cancel with a shitty excuse? I guess that’s better than ghosting me like some of the other omegas I’ve dated recently. But Elliott is the first omega who’s made me feel desired instead of like a lonely alpha chasing an omega. His rejection will sting.

Niall’s parting words echo in my head while the Heat Seekers logo spins in a circle of digital purgatory. Shitty alpha. Not big enough to make me feel small. Doesn’t take charge. Won’t throw me around. Not man enough. Not virile enough. What kind of alpha is more obsessed with his best friend than his omega? It’s like you’re in love with him.

Oh, Niall, if only you knew.