Page 20 of The Mating Game
“Hmm?”
She looks slightly embarrassed for some reason, turning her head away and reaching to rub at her neck. I wonder if she realizes how much this makes her scent bloom in the air, the soft smell of cinnamon and baked apples tickling my nostrils and making my mouth water.
“It’s just that I really need to get to a pharmacy,” she tells me. “I’ve been a little under the weather; I actually saw a doctor before I came here, and she gave me these prescriptions, and I need to—”
“I’ll take you,” I tell her. My body’s tensing with her burgeoning scent, so it comes out as more of a grunt. “It’s fine.”
She visibly relaxes, her face breaking into a grin. “Great. I’d definitely appreciate it.”
“We can go whenever you’re ready,” I tell her as she turns to study the paneling on the wall. “Just let me know when—”
She takes a step, not looking where she’s going, and I watch as, almost in slow motion, her foot catches the corner of the upturned carpet that she tugged loose to reveal the hardwood underneath.Her eyes widen as she loses her balance, and in a matter of seconds, she goes from tumbling backward to pressing against my chest. One of my hands wraps around her wrist while the other cradles her neck, holding her close so she doesn’t fall.
My lashes shutter in a blink as I’m hardly able to recall how we got like this; it’s as if I saw her in danger and my body just…reacted. Which is odd. This close, I can feel the warmth of her seeping through my clothes, can feel her soft skin brushing against my rough palms, and for a few seconds, I can’t seem to remember how to speak.
When it comes back to me, my voice is rougher than it was when I last spoke. “Are you okay?”
“I…” Her pupils dilate under my scrutiny, and I feel a rush of…something in my gut that would probably thrill me if it weren’t so alarming. Pleasurable but terrifying. “I’m fine,” she says. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Clearly,” I mutter.
Her brow furrows like she might return the sarcasm, but then her lips press together, making them look fuller, pinker. As I watch her throat bob in a swallow, I’m struck with the realization that with my hand cradling her neck, my wrist is dangerously close to her scent glands. That with one flick, I could scent her, and she would smell like me.
And why thefuckis that so appealing?
It’s enough to have me untangling myself from her with more force than necessary, because these arenotfeelings I need or want. Not again. Putting your faith in the wrong omega is enough to make anyone wary of doing it again.
I clear my throat when she’s out of my hands and at a safer distance, ignoring the way my palms tingle, almost as if in protest.
I clear my throat. “Good. Try to be more careful.”
The thought of her getting hurt also sparks a visceral reaction in me, and even though I know what it is—even though Iknowit’s simply biology—it makes my insides twist. With need or disgust at myself…I can’t be sure.
“If you still need to go to the pharmacy,” I say, changing the subject so I can hopefully escape and actuallybreathe, “we can go in twenty. I just need to…I have to…” I point aimlessly, having no actual excuse to get far away from her but needing to do so all the same. “Just have to check on something first.”
She nods slowly, her eyes wide and seeming to see right through me. “Sure. Meet you at your truck?”
“Sounds great,” I tell her, already spinning on my heel.
It occurs to me then that I’m actuallytrappedhere. For the next several weeks, I will be forced to endure living under the same roof with the exact type of person I swore I never wanted to have anything to do with again.
And even if that’s not her fault, it doesn’t change the way part of me feels the need to keep my distance. Even if only to protect myself.
You can’t be friends with Tess Covington, I repeat over and over as I head toward my bedroom for a moment of peace before I’m trapped in the Bronco with her for half an hour.It’s not a good idea.
There’s a reason alphas and omegas drive each other’s hormones so out of whack; we’re made to perfectly complement one another. Merely being in close proximity is enough to draw us to each other, to make uswant. It makes it way too easy to get in over your head without knowing what the other person is really like. Something I know all too well.
I tell myself I’ll just let her do her job, interacting with her as little as I can possibly get away with. That way nothing is complicated.
That way no one gets hurt.
I touch my fingers to my nostrils when I’m safely tucked away in my bedroom, allowing myself to breathe in her scent even though I know I shouldn’t. I close my eyes and let the sweetness of it fill my nose, releasing a shuddering breath when it makes my mouth water all over again.
I have a feeling it’ll be easier said than done.
5
Tess
