Page 70 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
“Dude, did you forget Camille was coming over?” I ask jokingly. “Or are you as stunned by how hot she is as we were?”
River’s mouth snaps shut and his expression shutters. “No. I didn’t forget.”
I reach down the bond to try to figure out what is up with his weird behavior, but he gives me nothing.
I don’t need a bond to know all the rapport we’ve been building with Camille since she arrived has vanished.
Dammit.
She gives River a tight smile, pushing her chair back to stand to greet him. “H-hi. I’m Camille.” She reaches a hand out and River stares at her like he’s never seen an omega before.
An incredibly long, awkward moment passes before he gives her hand a curt shake. “River.”
I shoot Ambrose a perplexed look, but he looks as confused as I am. River was anxious about meeting Camille, but this is beyond that.
What the fuck is going on?
23
This is a joke.I’m having a nightmare. I’d pinch myself if everyone wasn’t looking at me expectantly.
Shit, they’re all staring and I’m standing here with my mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for breath.
I give a mumbled reply to Jackson’s question about forgetting about tonight, unable to focus on his words. How can I, when the woman sitting at the dining table with my pack is here, eyes wide with shock at the sight of me?
I’m an idiot. My brains are the one thing I’m supposed to have going for me, yet Ambrose and Jackson told me the omega’s name was Camille, and I didn’t put the pieces together. I didn’t even consider that she’d bethisCamille.
To be fair, I don’t let myself think of her as anything more than Ms. Clairmont. Her first name is too personal. Too intimate.
Now the woman I’ve been avoiding at all costs at the office is here, in my home, for a courting date. The woman my alpha took one look at and thought “mine” the first day we met. The omega my partner is scent matched to.
My mind races, a million questions flooding my thoughts. The primary one being, what the fuck am I supposed to do now? Followed by, why didn't Camille tell HR that she’s an omega?
If she’d told them, they would’ve told me. And I would’ve known instead of agreeing to tonight and getting blindsided.
This is fucked. Absolutely fucked.
Things only get worse when Camille rises and reaches her hand out to me, introducing herself like I’m a stranger.
I freeze, momentarily wondering if she doesn’t recognize me. But that’s impossible. River isn’t exactly a common name and my tattoos alone are enough to distinguish me from others.
No, she knows it’s me and she’d rather pretend she doesn’t than address it head on.
Does she really hate me that much?
Feeling the weight of Jackson and Ambrose’s perplexed stares, I take her hand and give it a quick pump, barely managing to croak out my name when her silky soft palm brushes against mine.
Fuck, she’s so soft. My alpha wants to run my hands over every inch of her, and I fight back a rumble of pleasure.
This close to Camille, I catch a hint of her scent, much stronger than any other time I’ve been around her. What is normally a light coffee aroma has gone acrid, broadcasting her displeasure.
I pull my hand back and brush it off on my pants before my alpha uses the connection to tug her toward me and bury my face against her neck, scent marking her until her scent grows happy.
Camille’s expression crumples as she sits back down. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to grab her wine glass, though she tries to hide it.
Ambrose stands and moves to my side, making me realize that I’m still frozen to the spot. I blink at him in an anxiety-fogged haze, and he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Breathe, love. Everything is okay,” he murmurs under his breath.
I locked my side of the bond down before I headed home from the office, not wanting to stress them out with my ever-increasing nerves about meeting the omega they want to court. But Ambrose doesn’t need the bond to read me. Hell, Jackson can tell how freaked out I am judging by the look he’s giving me right now.
