Page 92 of Fight

“I thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. I wanted to introduce myself, however, I ended up getting pulled into watching the fights to make sure everything went well.”

Knowing the feeling of being sucked into work, I smile.

“This was before biology, scent matches, or anything else. You’re gorgeous, and carry yourself with so much confidence,” he says.

“My point is, if scent matches didn’t exist, I’d still want to ask you out, do things at a more natural pace.”

“But we are so…” I trail off.

“So I come off as a Neanderthal grunting ‘mine,’” he says with a chuckle. His words surprise a laugh from me, and his smile widens.

I don’t usually find men with beards attractive, but it works for him. “Things work differently for us, and a lot faster. I want to get to know you, court you, and grovel a bit. We didn’t have the best beginning. While I could blame biology and possessiveness, I really was just an asshole.”

“Are you always this up front and honest?” I ask.

“When I decide to speak at all? Yeah, I am,” he says. “Most of the time, people get grunts from me until they deserve an answer. I run a mafia organization and I have a temper, so less words allows me to hide how I actually feel. You’d also be surprised how uncomfortable silence makes people.”

“You’ve cracked the code on people,” I tease him.

“Helps me stay alive,” he grunts. “A trade secret is that I lose my temper in public just enough for people to think I’m a hot head so they’ll underestimate me.”

“I don’t think underestimating you would be considered to be a good life choice,” I admit. “You’re kind of scary.”

His emerald-green eyes heat up as he raises his brow. “Do I scare you, Bluebell? I’m all for the chase. It could be fun, don’t you think?”

As someone who actually has been through traumatic events, that shouldn’t be as hot as it sounds. Eyes wide, my breath quickens as I press my legs together. This makes me just a little fucked up, right?

Tommy doesn’t need a response, because my body is giving away all he needs to know.

“I wanted to spend some time with you because there’s so little that I know about you. Everything has been very rushed over the last few days for obvious reasons, and the scent match makes things so much more intense,” he says.

“It really does,” I murmur. “I used to think using my alpha pheromone blocker spray would give me options, because the idea of being trapped with alphas due to obsession is terrifying to me.”

Tommy winces as he hears this, taking a breath. “And now?” he asks.

“I think I may have been living life scent blind. Pheromones warn an omega of danger, or when something isn’t right,” I explain. “Sometimes, it can almost be a lie detector of sorts, since an alpha’s scent will change with their emotions.”

“I’ve noticed that,” he says with a nod. “It’s not just omegas. I can tell when someone’s scent smells burnt or is curdled that there’s something wrong. It’s not all of the time, and not all alphas will notice it.”

Maybe that’s why Augustine didn’t notice anything was wrong when I spoke to Xavier?

“I didn’t know that,” I say softly. “I was more worried about being trapped into something I didn’t want when I started taking them, and then they became a security blanket.”

The waitress brings our food before bustling off, saying she’ll be back with water glasses. I was so focused on my milkshake and fries, I didn’t really notice. Eagerly, I pick up a French fry and dip it into my milkshake before taking a bite.

My eyes close in happiness as the flavors explode over my tastebuds, making me moan.

“Goddamn, baby girl. You make eating sound like a religious experience,” he rumbles.

“It’s so good,” I murmur after swallowing, opening my eyes to see Tommy staring at me.

Clearing his throat, he picks up a fry and mimics me, dunking it into his chocolate malt milkshake before taking a bite.

“Fuck, that is delicious,” he mutters as I grin. “I can see why this is one of your favorite places in the city.”

“They gave me a chance when no one else would, and I’ve never forgotten that,” I tell him.

“So what was going on with your mom while you were working your ass off?” he asks quietly.

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