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Scent matches, basically soulmates, were the stuff of myths or legends. Luckily, they were still common enough that it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.
But I couldn’t help it.Me? I had a scent match.
The world chose me of all people who never had a home or a family in my entire life to get an omega at all with my pack, letalone a rare, stunning, striking—currently slightly tipsy—scent match?
I could hardly breathe as I fought to keep it together and not scream at her if she knew what I knew. Did she feel it too? She had to feel it. Didn’t she?
Pausing, I remembered what Leeson told me the other day about how he ran into an omega and had been off kilter ever since. Could this omega be the same one? Could this have gotten any crazier?
I was pretty sure it couldn’t have been by the time the waitress came back and sat too over-filled milkshakes topped with whipped cream.
The omega sat back in the booth. Though there weren’t many people in the diner, it was still just full enough that you could hear the laughter from the full booths a few over from us. She looked at me with wide eyes that were ringed in some kind of pink and gold eye makeup. Whenever she saw me looking back at her, she looked away, though I could tell.
She was checking me out.
I’m glad that she hopefully liked what she saw. I smirked and waved towards the two milkshakes. “You can choose. I only got the two best flavors here.”
Her eyes widened. “What are they?”
“This one.” I pointed. “Is double chocolate. Amazing. The other one is caramel butterscotch. Also amazing though my friend would disagree with me. Maybe I should’ve gotten vanilla?”
Shaking her head, she reached for the second milkshake, pulling it between both hands.
I got the chocolate one.
Reaching for the extra-long straw, she followed my lead, eyeing me suspiciously as if I was about to poison her before she took a long sip.
Had this girl never had a milkshake before?
Her eyes expanded in surprise. “Oh my god.”
“Good?”
“This is amazing.” She took another long sip before reaching for the cherry on top, popping it into her mouth, and making a small hum with pleasure.
“You don’t have milkshakes often?”
She shook her head. “It tastes like butterscotch and dreams.”
I barked a laugh. “When you’re with me, milkshakes are a requirement. Don’t worry.”
“Who said I’m going to be spending more time with you?” she mumbled.
“We’ll see,” I conceded, though I was pretty sure that it would be a pack. She had to know what we were to her. Or at least maybe when she was more sober, she’d finally figure it out. I wasn’t going to ruin the surprise. “But I’d like you to.”
“I don’t know you,” she countered.
“Easy. Ask me anything.”
“Really?”
“Go for it.”
“Um…” Her forehead creased in thought. Then, she hiccuped.
Fuck, she was cute.
“You go to VU, right?”
