Page 57 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

The touch lingers while he stands closer.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

“For . . . practice.”

“Yeah, for practice.”

“What kind of parameters?” I ask.

“You want to set parameters?”

“I don’t want to cross a line you aren’t comfortable with. Because I’m... you know.”

“There are no lines you aren’t allowed to cross.”

“But—”

“None, Izzy. I’m not concerned about your omega status. It might be different for the guys, but for me it’s not an issue. Don’t hold back.”

“I don’t think you understand what that means.”

“Maybe not. I’ve never dated an omega. I’m sure I’ll fuck it up. Think of it like teaching me too.”

“So you can learn how to care for an omega.”

“Yeah.”

He hasn’t even uttered the word before the earlier mental spiral leaps off the cliff again, this time with no parachute as I free-fall into jealousy.

In the space of a finger snap, the ground falls away and I leave the cloud of lusty feelings behind.

“I see,” I say crisply.

“Don’t be mad. You’re going to Brad, right?”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re not happy.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Just kiss me already.”

“Whoa, that’s not how we do this.”

“Then we bake the fucking cookies.” I twist out of his hold.

The metal mixing bowl slaps onto the surface in front of me. I rip open the butter packages with zeal and haphazardly toss white and brown sugar in with it.

The eggs splatter against the edge of the countertop, but most of them and the rest of the wet ingredients make it into the bowl. I only have to fish shell out once.

Swinging away from Vin, I snatch a fork from the utensil drawer and start creaming like I’m delivering corporal punishment.

He says nothing, only watches while I pace the room with the bowl under one arm and the dinner fork in the other.

At some point, he sets calming, jazzy music to play from his phone and portions out more chocolate chips.

“Izzy . . . ,” he starts but then never finishes the sentence.

Flour plumes into the air as I harshly scoop measuring cups and drop them onto the flex board. Salt and baking soda follow.

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