Page 59 of Heat Hesitation

We might not be bonded, but Theo notices my eyes glaze over while Paul points out sections of the store. Apparently, he made an appointment in advance and asked for a tour, so I'm relieved when Theo releases Paul from his duties. Bless his heart, Paul doesn't miss a beat and tells us to grab him when we need him.

"We thought you could use more in your nest," Theo nudges my arm as I browse through an entire wall of cubbies stuffed to the brim with various types of pillows.

My fingers trail over the material, and when I pause on something, even just for a moment, Theo pulls it out and tosses it on an empty table nearby. By the time we move onto blankets, he's thrown ten different pillows together.

"What are you doing with all those?" I ask, pointing to the ones he's saving.

"I know you're not that dense, nutcracker."

My eyes narrow in response. I love my nest but it's a little sparse considering Theo and I tossed or gave away pretty much all my furniture. And I never really had a proper nest before now. A big bed that fit me and four alphas. Soft fabrics and warm lampshades. Soothing colors, supplies for a heat.

I guess I can give in to this shopping spree since they'll be sharing the nest with me, heat or not. Theo's convinced I'm going to stop taking my heat suppressant pills. Even if I decide to do it, they take weeks to wean off.

They've all graciously chosen not to point out my recent heat spike symptoms, which can happen even when you're on suppressants. If I have a full-on heat spike, that will be bad enough; I'll see how that goes before I go back on yet another thing I swore I'd never change.

We get to a stack of artfully arranged thick plastic cups with unique handles and built-in straws, for, I'm assuming, drinking water while getting railed, considering their durability. They seem sturdy and industrial, a little out of place, considering everything else here is delicate and dainty, but they're interesting. When I inspect one further, trying to turn the handle carefully, I accidentally knock my elbow into another, causing the one in my hand to tug out of the stack, and the entire display crashes down around me.

Horrified, I try to pick up the cups but make everything worse, knocking more things over, everything bouncing noisily all around me. Thank god it's all plastic. When Paul and another employee tell me I should stop trying to help, I'm mortified and step away with my hands up in surrender. When I turn, there's Theo, laughing so hard he's wiping tears from his eyes.

"I'm—I'm—" I shake my head at a loss for words. He's still crying-laughing and I bury my face in his chest to hide my red cheeks. His shoulders shake while his arms come around me.

"You are catastrophically adorable," he wheezes.

"Please get me out of here."

"Not yet. Let's pick out a few more things," he chuckles, rubbing my shoulder, fortunately dragging me away from Paul and now two employees picking up my mess.

We pick out a few sets of cooling sheets made by the same company that makes slick wicks, cooling weighted blankets, and a set of colorful curtains that block light but look like a sunset. I couldn't stop touching or staring at them, so Theo insisted we get them.

Theo arranges to have everything delivered, and while he's dealing with that and payment, I wander around the store. Curious, I gravitate toward a wall of toys hidden behind a room-dividing screen, like a classy version of XXX-must-be-18-to-enter half-doors, but there's an imaginative anal and scrotum vibrator that catches my attention with Enzo in mind. I love my eccentric, adventurous mate.

My hand reaches out to inspect the package when the scent of peaches hits me hard, like she snuck right up behind me. I pull my hand away and turn, finding Bridgette wearing a fake smile, her nose upturned as she scents me.

She's wearing fitted khaki-colored cigarette pants and a low-cut black blouse, dressing more like Fletcher than an omega in her early twenties, save for the undone buttons at her chest. A lovely set of pearls nestle between her large, perky tits. Is this what's in fashion for high-society omegas these days?

I'm assuming she's a new graduate, a few years younger than me, and I see her for what she is: a prop of the OFA. It's their fault she has that look on her face, as if we're in competition, or she needs to be somehow better than me.

I don't care, but I don't know what happened between her and Theo. Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn. He said nothing, and I believe him, but the two times I've seen this woman, she was on his arm.

"Are they coming out with a new type of scent-block to make you smell like an omega?" She lifts an eyebrow and waves her hand at her nose like she smells something bad. "It's a little earthy. Sort of like dirt. Or trash." She smirks.

"I see Fletcher's lessons on practicing dignity and grace are progressing well. The quality of that school's really gone downhill. In my day, insults were less subtle but much more creative."

She looks me up and down, taking in my holey jeans and flat sneakers, finding me wanting. "I remember you, you know. From the gala. You and your fat ass ruined my dress." Her nostrils flare slightly, and she leans into my space, eyes widening when she latches on to something. "Who the fuck would bond you?"

My bonding mark isn't visible, but I know my scent has changed. It's one of the only reasons I've been more relaxed going out without scent-blocker. The answer is right there on my tongue. Don't do it, Ophelia. Don't say it. You'll regret it! My brain is two steps behind my heart.

"Constantine Pack," I tell her with a big fake smile.

She falters before leaning a little closer, sniffing. "Not Theo or Sully… oh. Oh my god. You bonded with the freak!" She barks a laugh, her face lighting up, slapping her thigh. "That creep that's always staring at people. Well, have fun with that, honey. Everyone knows he's only in Constantine because they feel bad for him. The others are way too good for you, and they'll never bond some trashy waitress with a fat ass just because she trapped the Freak of Arrow Cove."

My hand itches to reach out and slap her face. How dare she talk about Enzo that way. My fingers wiggle at my side, trying to decide if this trashy waitress from South Loop is capable of stooping as low as a high-bred prick like her.

I'm saved when Theo's soothing lemon and honey scent round the corner to the XXX booth. He's got a light, carefree smile on.

"Sunflower, what are you doing back here?" He asks mischievously. The irony that I'm back here tucked away with the vibrators and dildos with Bridgette is not lost on me.

"What's going on over here?" Sensing the tension, Theo wraps an arm around my shoulder.

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