Page 33 of Perfectly Naïve
Much like my reaction to Sawyer and his pack, research is unpredictable and amazing. Over the weekend, Vicki stumbled upon a potential correction to the formula. This formula is the closest we’ve gotten to a viable medicine for human trials, but it’s not right yet. The team has spent Monday morning poring over the details, checking research notes, recalculating the composition, and more.
This normally wouldn’t be a problem, but I’m still acclimating to life with functional scent receptors. Every single person on my team has their own unique scent. Pair that with coffee, tea, and the energy drinks Colt downs like candy, and I’m nearing sensory overload. By the time an extended lunch break rolls around, I’m more than ready to escape.
Grabbing my things, I head to the tables outside for some much-needed fresh air. I just need to clear my head, sit down, and eat. Maybe even spend some time reviewing the notes I’ve taken about this research with Sawyer. I reach into my bag, frowning and digging around, huffing in frustration whenmints, a wallet, earbuds, my phone, and some lip balm are the only things I find.When was the last time I had my notebook?
I had it on the way to Friday-night date night, and then I woke up and—crap. I probably forgot it in the rush to get home on Saturday. Mom bombarded me with obnoxious Omega Social Club stuff, and I was too exhausted to do much of anything the rest of the weekend. Chewing on my cheek, I shoot off a text to Sawyer.
Hi! How are you? So, I forgot my notebook, and I was hoping I could swing by and grab it?
There. I don’t need to tell him that I plan to analyze everything I’ve written and experienced and cross-check it with all theomega shouldsMom has told me year after year, and also some other information I’ve gathered.
These kids are wild and I’m exhausted, but better now that you texted me . Hayes should be home if you want to head over.
My cheeks heat. The alpha that sandwiched me between him and his twin? The one that smells like chocolate?
Perfect. I’m on break now, so I can swing over and grab it.
Awesome. I’ll let him know you’re on the way.
Nerves flutter inside me. I’ll be seeing his gorgeous packmate. Alone. By myself.Please don’t be awkward.
With Nigel busy today helping my dad, I drove myself to work, and I’m glad he won’t be here to witness how flustered I am. I park my BMW X3 outside the pack’s house, eyeing the open garage door. A car is jacked up, and Hayes’s legs and boots are the only part of him I can make out. The rest of him is stuck under the vehicle, and tools are scattered around the ground.
You can do this, Liv. Just walk up and say hi, ask for your notebook. Whatever you do, do not smell him or rub against him. That’ll probably freak him out.
With a deep breath, I climb out, shivering from the chilly September breeze and scurrying up the driveway, driven by self-preservation and the promise of warmth. There’s a cold front moving in this week, and I’m ready to snuggle up by a fire.
The rock music in the garage must cover the sound of my footsteps, because Hayes doesn’t react to my presence until a breeze sweeps into the garage. The ratchet sound pauses, and he slides the under-car-roller out, eyes widening slightly when I grin.
“Hey.”
Forehead wrinkling, he clears his throat. “Hi.” His voice is gruff, maybe from how little he uses it, and deep.
Trickles of his chocolate scent fill my nostrils. My mouth waters, but I keep it casual, glancing around at the car. “Is this yours?”
He sits, resting his arms on his knees, studying me. “Yes.” The way his green eyes bore into me, there’s so much said.Why are you here? What are you doing?
“I texted Sawyer,” I say quickly. “I left my notebook, and he said I could come by and grab it.”
“Right.” Hayes stands, unfurling from the ground and towering over me. He’s definitely over six feet tall, and he’s big. He’s not all muscle though; he’s also soft. He coulddefinitely chop down a tree, and he’d make a great snuggle buddy. “It’s in the house.”
He wipes his hands on a rag and heads toward the door that leads into the house.
I happily follow, breathing in the rich and delectable chocolate trail he leaves behind. This pack smells like heaven. Do they have any clue? How have they made it this long without finding a compatible scent match?
Hayes abruptly stops before we can go inside, and I’m so lost in my head and breathing in the warmth and goodness of his scent that I crash into his back with a squeak. I bounce off of him, trip over my feet, and start to tip back, but Hayes is suddenly there, catching me with strong and steady arms. His palms press into my back, one between my shoulders and the other at the base of my spine.
His touch burns in the best way.
“Careful,” he murmurs.
“Thanks,” I breathe, clutching his dark blue shirt as he helps me straighten. Touches of cinnamon come out of nowhere, and my eyebrows slam together. “Wait,” I say out loud, even though I’m talking to myself. Stepping closer, I hook my hands around the back of his neck.
Hayes’s nostrils flare.
I tug, and he leans toward me. As soon as his throat is within reach, I bury my face against it and breathe deep, a little hum of approval rattling out of me. Rich, sweet, and delicious chocolate, but there, on the back ends of his scent notes, is the barest kiss of cinnamon. “God, Hayes, you smell so good,” I murmur against his skin. “Did you know you have a bit of cinnamon too?” I rub my nose against his neck, wishing I could bathe in a vat of this to-die-for smell.
A deep rumble sounds in his chest. I’m still too new to this whole omega-and-alpha dynamic to heed the warning.
