Page 22 of The Heat of Us

I glanced down at Juno wiping her hand on her shirt with a disgruntled expression. Had my forehead really been that sweaty? She offered to let me lie down upstairs, which was the absolute last thing I wanted.

What I wanted was to know who she was.

“Say please.”

God, Juno was going to make me jump through every possible hoop like a circus animal, wasn’t she?

“Please,” I muttered.

“That’s Hazel.”

Hazel.

Her name rang in my heart with the deep resonance of a cathedral bell.

“We were in the same trial group and lived in the Village together. Do you want me to introduce you?”

Yes. A thousand times yes. Except—

“I can’t meet her like this. My hair.” I ran my hand along my scalp, mourning the loss as I felt stubble instead of my ordinarily thick strands.

I’d shaved it (or rather Juno did) as part of my attempt to make amends and do better. Sitting in on her interview and corroborating her story was the least I could do. We had our DNA tests but it made for better television when an old photograph showed I looked exactly like my (balding) father and Juno didn’t.

I would shave it off again for her in an instant.

Maybe.

As if she could hear my thoughts, Juno unceremoniously slapped my hands off my head. I almost retaliated before realising drawing the ire of her six packmates was not a good idea. “You did a very selfless thing for me in the interview. That will be omega catnip for her more than whatever the hell your hair looked like before you shaved it.”

Magnificent. That’s what it looked like. Why wouldn’t she admit it?

I didn’t quite catch the last thing Juno said until she was walking away from me towards Hazel.

“No! Juno. Juno!” What was she doing? I wasn’t ready. “Come back here.”

Juno was returning with Hazel in tow. Holy shit. I felt like I was having a panic attack, a cardiac episode and respiratory failure all in one.

“Ben. I’d like you to meet—”

Oh. Seeing Hazel up close was disastrous.

She wasn’t just beautiful. This was some fabled, written in the blood of history, face that launched a thousand ships type shit.

And I was just Ben. Ben with no hair.

I was fucked.

“I thought what you did for Juno during the interview was so sweet.” Her voice was light and lilting, like spun sugar. “Was that really all your idea?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Juno mime something incoherent before backing away.

“Yes, I…” I paused and swallowed, really wishing my tongue didn’t feel like dead weight in my mouth. “I severely let her down in the past and it was the least I could do.”

My truth tumbled out, even though it was possibly the least alluring, mood-dropping thing I could have possibly said. But something about Hazel made me want to expose the bleached bones of my messed up psyche.

Hazel blinked. “Wow, that’s…admirable.” I could almost see her flirty facade recede. She cast a glance over her shoulder. “The girls and I were talking about how grateful we were to not be hearing all the negativity around bond dissolution anymore. Well…not that it’s gone. But it’s certainly a lot quieter.”

There was a fragility in her expression. It was a sharp reminder, like a stiletto blade sinking into my chest, that the bond dissolution trials had been for omegas who were escaping abusive situations.

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