Page 25 of Her Knotty Alphas

His deep brown eyes shine with sincerity, and before I can convince myself that it's a bad idea to get to know the man who will inevitably reject me, I'm placing the bakery box at my station and patting my chair. "Have a seat then, Mr. Mendez."

His eyes flash dangerously as he takes a seat and I drape the cape over him. "That makes me think of my dad. If we're going with honorifics, I'd prefer 'Professor', or 'sir'."

Holy shit. Why did that make my thighs clench in need? I'm suddenly very glad that I've invested in the best scent-blocking panties out there, otherwise I'd be in violation of so many different salon rules, the most important one being "NO PHEROMONES".

My mouth goes dry as I grab my spray bottle and comb from my station. "I…um…noted." I swallow, my lips aching to test that boundary. Call it morbid curiosity or a masochistic urge to test his reaction. "Sir."

A low vibration rumbles out of his chest as his dark eyes take me in through the mirror and I clear my throat. "I, um…what are we doing? You just got it cut yesterday."

The purr cuts off and he gives me a wry smile. "The guys and I thought it might be a good idea if I was the one who came and talked to you, and that getting my haircut would be a familiar enough situation that you would feel comfortable talking."

"The guys? You…um…you'retalking?" Why does that fill my chest with a sense of rightness? The unease wants to take over, balking at the opportunity the alphas now have to talk about my flaws together, but I don't say anything else.

"Of course we are,preciosa." Enzo meets my eyes in the mirror. "We're pack. You bring us together. Me, Austin—"

"I know," I nearly snap, then close my eyes and exhale through my nose. "I'm sorry." I open them to see only concern in Enzo's face. "Can you tell me what you want to do with your hair? I have another client at five." I spray down his hair and comb as I go, knowing that he's not a fan of shampooing.

He gives me a wry smile. "Of course. Let's do a one on the sides, and keep the top maybe…half a finger-length." I can't keepthe surprised look off my face. That's considerably shorter than the four he's been keeping at the sides.

Enzo must know what my expression means, because he sheepishly explains, "I…I made sure to never get it cut too short that I wouldn't have a reason to come back. Even before I scented you, Hannah, I had a wildly inappropriate crush on you. Still do, really." I can see my own cheeks turn bright pink in the mirror and he looks at me with a strange expression of…adoration? "So, despite the fact that I am much too old for you, I continued to keep my hair much longer than I wanted, just I'd still have some hair left for you to cut."

"You arenottoo old for me." The conviction in my voice almost shocks me, but then I smile softly as I put down my spray bottle and comb and grab my clippers, making sure the right attachment is on. "In fact, it makes me a little sad that the sides will almost be too short to see the silver hairs anymore. They make you look…refined. Distinguished."

I swear I see his chest puff out a little. "Well, they'll grow back," he says gently. "From now on, when I see you, I want it to be because you want to see me too, not because I keep ambushing you at your job."

So…he’s not going to come get his hair cut by me anymore? The pang of disappointment in my chest is unwelcome and unexpected. Surely he’ll still come in for regular cuts, just not so often—

His chuckle startles me, and I look up from his hair at the mirror, surprised to see my own expression in a pout. My cheeks heat with embarrassment but my omega seemingly raises her head, urging me to let our scent match know that his affections are not one sided. "I'm not going to lie and say I didn't look forward to seeing your name on my schedule so often."

Before he has a chance to respond, I turn on the clippers, loud buzzing filling the area, and get to work on the back and sidesof his head. I lose myself in the motions, the white noise of the clippers allowing me to clear my mind for a moment.

Enzo is here, and he doesn't…he doesn't seem disappointed that I'm his match. In fact, with the way I can feel his gaze burning into me as I work on his hair, I think he might be, dare I say…happy?

I find myself tugging my bottom lip under my front teeth. This doesn't make any sense. Enzo already had a scent match. How could I be his too? That's the first thing I should ask about after we can hear again.

Flicking off the clippers, I set them down and meet his eyes again. My breath whooshes out of my lungs at the pure look of…longing in his eyes. When was the last time I had someone look at me like that? Have Ieverhad anyone look at me like that? At one point, I would have said Charlie, but he quickly proved himself to be a liar.

It hits me then, I shouldn't ruin this moment with talk of his previous scent match. The conversation probably wouldn't benefit either of us right now.

"So, Enzo." My voice sounds strange. Husky. "Titus is your brother?"

"He is," he confirms, his eyes tracking every movement of mine as I start trimming the hair at the top of this head. "We have the same dad, but my mom died when I was six. Married Titus' mom when I was ten, and had him two years later."

"That must have been hard," I say softly, still working his hair.

"The hardest thing was not understanding how she could be here one day and gone the next, you know? But it had been long enough that when Dad met Sabine, that it didn't feel like he was trying to replace her. She and I have always had a great relationship, and I was so excited to be a big brother, even if I don't always live up to my own expectations." That has mefrowning. He must be referring to how destroyed he was when he lost his scent match.

I don't ask about it though, instead opting for empathy. "My dad passed when I was seven," I say, grabbing the spray bottle to re-wet the hair that's gotten a little too dry. "Drunk driver. Mom…she was lost for a while. My brother and I had to take care of each other until she met Paul—two years later."

It's second nature to suppress the shiver at the memory of having to spoon feed mom the first two months because she couldn't do anything herself. Aunt Olivia, dad's sister, came by and realized how bad it was, but when she suggested that Kieran and I come stay with her family for a little bit, Mom flew into a rage. She was a little better after that. She could feed herself, at least.

"Stepdad?" He asks, curiosity clear in his tone.

"Yeah. He's fine. He just…is." I shrug. "Came with three stepsisters. Birdie, Cat, and Rue."

He gives a wry grin. "All animal themed names?"

A derisive snort leaves me. "Yeah. Don't you dare bring it up to them though. Theyhateit. Birdie still screams at us to not call her that, even though she's near forty now. Calls us 'immature'." I shake my head.

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