Page 94 of Toxic

Fuming, I sat in the car. I let myself be just angry—super angry. Sooo fucking angry.

Furious.

Enraged.

I even allowed myself to feel a bit of triumph over Soren. He pushed me away, and now I’d done the same to him. I didn’t need that bastard. He could give bjs to whoever he wanted, even to his own rapist, and rent apartments with whoever he wanted. I was done with him and his bullshit.

SOREN

The days after graduation felt like a blur. Liam organized the entire move, of course, while I was completely useless. He packed my things, hired a moving company, and when everything was delivered to the new place, he unpacked and put everything in closets.

I was like a zombie, barely able to breathe, just drifted around the apartment or lay lifeless on the bed. I spent hours there, numb, sometimes crying, though I tried to hide it from Liam. He hovered around with a concerned look, treating me like a disabled or something. He’d bring me sweets, make me creamy soups, and even downloaded my favorite shows, suggesting we watch them together. I was so out of it that I eventually agreed. We spent the whole weekend glued to the screen—me just trying to shut my brain off.

There were still a few days before we were supposed to start working at DevApp. Liam would occasionally give me these looks, like he was trying to gauge if I was finally getting over my ‘low point’. To him, this probably seemed like a small, fleeting thing. He kept saying, "You didn’t even sleep with him, so how serious could it have been? It didn’t get far enough for you to be this torn up, Soren. Soon you’ll get rid of him from your system."

He repeated it regularly, every few hours, like he was trying to hypnotize me. Whenever he saw my face change, hit by a wave of pain, he’d sit beside me, take my hands, and start talking in his calm voice. He’d tell me everything would be okay, that I’d feel better in a few days, a week, a month, and that I’d forget about it all and move on.

Thankfully, he didn’t bring up his idea of us being a couple again. Maybe he finally realized that what he did before wasn’t very tactful. After our last conversation, I gave him absolutely no answer—just stayed quiet and went to bed without even looking at him. Perhaps now he thought better of it, planning to slow things down with me.

He’d become more cautious, yes, but his presence was still like a shadow—impossible to avoid. He even followed me into the bathroom sometimes. I felt awkward when he walked in while I was taking a shower. I turned so he couldn’t see my crotch, but his eyes still roamed over my body, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

The fact that he wanted me—disturbed me, but what could I do? Right now, I only had Liam. Skye was gone. I’d pushed him away, thrown away my chance. My chance at what, though? Love? Or another broken heart? Probably the latter, but for some stupid reason, I still wanted it.

Every night, after Liam went to bed, I’d write Skye a short email. It was like keeping a journal. I’d write things like:

"Day 6 since I told you to leave. It’s not getting any better. I don’t know if you’re reading this or if you blocked my email, but I want you to know that all it takes is one word from you, and we can be together. I want to give this a chance. Please, just reach out."

***

A few days later, Liam and I started working at DevApp.

It wasn’t particularly difficult for me, since I’d already been employed there part-time for the past year and a half, or close to two years, actually. I knew everyone on the team, I’d been exchanging emails and having online meetings with them regularly, discussing various projects.

Thanks to my experience, I got a higher starting salary than the newbies, so things were looking good—at least career-wise. I had no trouble paying off my debt and my share of the rent.

Also, for the first time, I met my director, Winter Nolan, in person. Up to then, we’d only spoken online. During almost two years, we never had a reason to meet face-to-face since I’d been working remotely as a part-time junior coder. But now I had a job at their headquarters.

When I first walked into his office, something struck me—something about his face. Now that I was seeing him up close, I noticed he had quite a resemblance to Skye, something I hadn’t recognized before. Seeing his visage in a tiny video chat window, it wasn’t obvious, especially from the front, but now I realized they really did have similar features.

Winter Nolan was a beta like me, though slightly taller, perhaps by an inch and a half. He had long platinum blond (almost white) hair braided down to his shoulder blades, and his face had a cold, somewhat aloof look. His very pale eyebrows and lashes didn’t do him any favors, giving him a slight albino impression. Despite his regular facial features, I had a feeling he wasn’t exactly a hit in the dating scene. His icy demeanor andthat washed-out, blanched appearance didn’t add to his charm, for sure.

Fortunately, he treated me well. He was impressed with my academic record—I’d graduated with honors, top of my year in my major. Immediately, he assigned me to an ambitious project for ByteBites, which they were just starting. It was a chance for me to get in on everything from the beginning.

As we sat discussing the project details, I couldn’t take my eyes off him—his face, that nose (now that I could view it from the side), so identical to Skye’s. Even his lips were similarly shaped, kinda sweet, sensual. The same arching of the eyebrows! When I looked at his hands, I saw the similarities—the shape of the nails was identical. It could not be a coincidence.

At one point, when he finished briefing me on a stage of the project, I couldn't hold back and blurted out, "Sorry to ask, but do you have any siblings? I once met someone who looked a lot like you."

Winter’s pale gray eyes met mine, and he raised his white eyebrows that looked like they were embroidered with snow. "I actually have seven brothers. It’s possible you met one of them. One of my brothers actually graduated from the same major at your college."

"Skye Nolan?" I muttered, struggling to get his name out.

Winter’s expression remained unchanged as he replied, "Yes, that’s him. Do you know him?"

I almost choked and cleared my throat loudly. What the fuck… or rather, what luck?

But I pushed out, "Yeah, he’s really talented. He graduated second, right after me."

Winter made a strange face and shrugged. "For an alpha, he’s decent, but personally, I don’t think alphas are cut out to be programmers. They have a harder time focusing on tedious, precise tasks. It’s their hormones—they’re impossibleto control," he said with such disdain that it sent a chill down my spine. Winter’s lips—so very Skye-like—winced, and it was a surreal experience. I knew those lips had engaged in so many sweet things…

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