Page 12 of Heat Hesitation

I drop to my knees to pick up the mess. Maybe I can sneak away. Crawl away if I have to.

Sensing my distress—damn, I wish he weren't already tuning into me—Theo jumps into action, helping me arrange the mostly intact, though now empty, glasses on my tray, though some are broken into pieces. I try to push him away, but each finger that brushes against mine sends a zap of electricity, sending goosebumps up my arm.

My hands are shaking, and Theo can't stop staring. His eyes on me are a physical weight. I can't look up. I can't take in the real him, the face I've been staring at in pictures and magazines. His honeyed dark blond hair, perfectly styled and effortlessly sexy, his penetrating bright crystal blue eyes, and devil-may-care expression make you feel like the only person in the room, even through a camera lens.

He's even hotter in person.

"Are you sure we don't know each other?" His eyes narrow, but Madam fucking Fletcher joins our group in a rush—wow, can my night get any worse—with Sullivan Constantine in tow.

"What's going on here?" Sully demands. His voice is gruff, full of authority and control. Thank God he's too far away, and with all the other swirling scents in the room, I can't smell him. I make an effort to lean away so I can focus, but my knees are weak with sudden desperation.

"Oh no, what's happened here?" Fletcher asks. The old bat hasn't changed a bit. Still a hard ass, with a severe gray bun and stiff posture. She's dressed like a school teacher, not for a gala.

"This—this—this clumsy dimwit has ruined my dress! Look at me!"

"Oh, well, I'm sure it was an accide—" Fletcher's words cut off when she looks directly at me. "Oh—Oh my goodness. Ophelia?" She gasps.

I grit my teeth, clutching the tray in front of me like armor. "It was an accident. She bumped into me."

"It was your fat ass that bumped into me," the girl snaps.

Fletcher attempts to take control of the situation. "Bridgette, that's enough. We've talked about this, that's no way to talk to another person. Dignity and grace, remember?"

The mask slips back over Brigette's face, the change unsettling. "You're right. I'm so sorry, Miss Fletcher. Sully, Theo, please forgive me. That was most unbecoming. You see, as an omega, my senses are quite delicate, and this beta here smells like melted plastic, and it was just so disgusting it must have distracted me. However, Miss Fletcher, I must say, if she smells this bad, is it really appropriate for her to work at an event like this? I can't be the only omega who's complained. And who's to pay for my dress?"

If this crazy bitch thinks I'm paying for her dress, she's out of her damn mind. Miss Fletcher likely senses my budding rage. Hell, we can all smell the bitter tinge in the air, but before I can lash out while Bridgette continues to cry, I take a few steps back.

"I'm very sorry for the mess," I offer, then, before things can get any worse, turn and run toward the back.

"Wait!" Theo calls out, right on my heels. I quickly abandon the tray of empty glasses on the nearest table.

My flat shoes are a blessing, and I nearly plow another poor girl over as I duck and weave through the crowd. I can't hear them, smell them, or see them, but somehow, I know they're only a few steps behind me. They probably don't know why they're chasing after me, their alpha instincts driving them without coherent thought.

I risk a glance and immediately spot both Theo and Sully, relieved their massive frames can't dodge as quickly as mine. They're trying to be polite to guests and not plow them over. Someone tugs at their arms to talk to them, slowing them down. I snicker, thinking I've got away.

It's two hours into the night; if I sneak out now, Sharon wouldn't notice. I might miss out on tip tallying, but whatever, I need to get out of here.

I sense them behind me, but I've gained some traction. If I move quickly, they won't catch me. Maybe, later on, they'll wonder why some nameless beta employee caught their attention, chalking it up to intrigue. They'll be confused, at best. Dismiss it as a fluke.

Slipping through the swinging doors, down the staff halls, and into the kitchens, I head straight for the locker room. Adrenaline has my fingers shaking so much that I clumsily drop everything I pick up—my purse, my catering ID badge. I debate changing since they didn't scent me, they might be searching for me in my uniform, but it would be a waste of precious time.

I grab my change of clothes stuffed into a tote bag, swing my purse over my body, and peek into the kitchen. I see Sharon talking to Fletcher, and my heart drops.

This is it. It's the moment I get fired. Whatever, I need to get out of here.

I sneak along the perimeter of the kitchen, heading for the employee exit. Unfortunately, I caught a ride here with another employee who drove in from South Loop. I could wait for them to finish and hide amongst all the busyness of people coming and going, or I could walk down the mountain and catch the bus once I hit the north end of downtown.

Mind made up, I creep along the outside of the massive building. The campus is split up into several buildings, with security and various staff everywhere so it's easy to get lost in the crowd.

My adrenaline is crashing, and in the wake of my beating heart is the knowledge that I found them, again. I'm tearing my heart out of my chest with each step I take, ignoring the possibility of a lifetime with them because I'm terrified of what will happen if I let down my guard.

Each step tugs at my stomach like my anchor is back behind me.

Turn around and go back to them, my omega screams inside me.

No, don't turn around. Keep going. The decision battles inside me, and I'm crashing, suddenly cold and shivering. I haven't cried, but I'm sure tonight will be even worse than that night a year ago when I did the impossible and kept myself away. It's like going through detox.

I need to get out of here. I'm disoriented and turned around on campus, so I look up to figure out where I am. Big mistake.

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