Page 16 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
Daisy is undeterred, flipping to a different section. A small smile twists her lips as she passes the next one over.
“What?” I ask, curious about her reaction when she hasn’t shown any response to the other options.
“Oh, I’d just be tickled if you like this one.”
My brow furrows at her cryptic reply, and I bring the card up to my nose and inhale. The second the scent hits my nose, I release a sigh of relief.
It’s more subtle than some of the others, but that doesn’t matter. Muscles I didn’t know I was tensing ease at the memory of sipping a cup of the fancy imported earl gray tea my mom loved. Drinking it with her early in the morning before anyone else got up when we’d get together for the holidays, and her letting me vent about all my worries.
To my horror, tears well in my eyes.
“Oh god, that bad?” Daisy asks with a shocked grimace, reaching out to take the card away.
I clutch it to my chest and shake my head. “No! It…” I wipe away the tears and smile softly. “It brought up some memories, but they’re good ones.” I take a moment to sniff the card again, considering if it’ll be too weird to have someone with this scent helping me with my heat.
The answer is a resounding no. Something inside me knows that this person will be there for me, judgement-free and grounding at a time when I need it the most. And now that the initial sense memory is fading, I remember the super hot beta barista who I used to get London fogs from back in college. That has me squirming a bit. If this person looks anything like them, I won’t be upset.
I pass the card back. “I like that one.”
Daisy smiles, and nods. There’s a twinkle behind her eyes as she places the card back in the sleeve and makes a note, but it’s gone before I can figure out what that means. She sets the binder to the side. “I think since it’s your first heat, two should be enough. Especially given how…potentthe one selection is. I’ll get in touch with them—they’re both on call tonight so they should be able to get here within an hour or two. That will give you time to set up your nest and get comfortable.”
Panic surges inside me, pushing away the temporary calm from that last scent as Daisy closes the binder and shifts in her chair, about to get up. “What? That’s it? That can’t be it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How do I make a nest? I’m not a bird!” My voice gets higher and squeakier as I speak.
She sets the binder down on the table next to her, then reaches out to take my hand. I take it eagerly, hoping for her touch to ground me before I spiral into a full-blown panic attack. Daisy squeezes my hand gently. “I know you’re nervous, Camille. It’s totally normal. You’ve thought you were a beta for a heck of a lot longer than any omega I’ve met, so you aren’t used to following your instincts. But those impulses, no matter how silly they feel, are what you need to focus on. They’ll guide you.”
“How can I focus on my instincts when I’m freaking out?” I ask, attempting to lower my voice and not crush her hand in my sweaty grip.
“Start with your nest.” I open my mouth to protest again that I don’t know the first thing about making one, but she shakes her head to stop me. “It’s not hard, and it’ll help you sink into listening to your intuition and what your body is telling you. Go through those blankets and pillows, and pick the ones that feel good. You’ve already started,” she says, gesturing to the pink blanket I’m wrapped in.
“Oh. That’s it?” Is it really that easy? The clips I’ve caught of nest improvement shows make it seem like it’s a whole ordeal to create the perfect omega nest.
Daisy smiles gently. “Yeah. It’s about making a space that’s as cozy and nice as you can, so your omega feels safe during your heat. It’s a little tougher when you don’t have established partners that have saturated your nesting materials with their pheromones, but this will be good enough for your first time. There are curtains set up to help make the bed more enclosed, but if you don’t like those, you don’t have to use them.”
I sigh, relaxing at her explanation and the small amount of contact. Damn, the doctor was right about me needing touch right now. “Okay. I can do that.”
“You can. I’ve seen a lot of omegas before their first heats, and I can always tell if it’s going to be a struggle for them. You? You’re going to be fine, honey.” Daisy squeezes my hand again, then lets go.
She probably says that to everyone, but it still helps a little. “Okay.”
Daisy grabs a slip of paper from the binder and hands it and a pen to me. “Fill this out to give to your partners if you’d rather not tell them out loud what is on and off the table for your heat. Otherwise, they’ll talk to you in person before anything begins. We’ll also be monitoring the room’s audio per our safety protocols, and your partners have been trained to look for signs of medical distress.”
It’s amazing how clinical all of this is. Which, I mean, of course it is. It’s a heatclinic. I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or worse about the whole situation. It’s great to know I’m safe and my partners are trustworthy, but also, people are going to be listening to me as I have sex for days on end.
I’m at peace with my body but that doesn’t mean I want some hunky alpha I’ve never met—and who has sex withmuch younger omegas all the time—judging my saggy tits and cellulite covered ass.
“What if they’re not attracted to me?” I blurt.
Sweet, nonjudgmental angel of a woman Daisy rolls her eyes at me. “I wouldn’t give you partners that aren’t a good match. Honey, your scent alone will drive them wild, but paired with the rest of you?” She gives me a once over, and chuckles. “Not going to be an issue.”
My nipples tighten and my pussy clenches at her declaration. “Oh. You really think so?”
Daisy stands and pats my shoulder. “You’re going to have fun, Camille,” She winks and heads out of the room, closing the door behind her.
God, I hope she’s right.
7
I’m shovingthe enormous pile of laundry that I’ve been putting off doing in the washer when my phone vibrates against my thigh.
