Page 9 of Forget

I swear, this man is infuriating.

My eyes catch on the birthmark I have on my hand between my thumb and index finger. I always thought it was odd, since my mom didn’t have it. When I was eight, I asked if anyone else in our family had it, and she got sad and told me no. I never asked her again.

I wish I had, since now I can’t.

Sighing, I let myself get sucked into my day, content to forget all the things I regret.

A year and a half later

November 4th

Things are good today! It’s my birthday, I have the day off, and I’m finally in a place where I don’t feel guilty for taking a ‘me’ day. Caleb and Mr. Lars conspire together to force me to take personal time, and I simply find a way to pick up a shift anyway.

I put in a request to have the day off, and shocked the hell out of them. I’m eighteen as of three fifteen this morning, and as excited as I am, I also know I’m that much closer to my first heat.

I’ve asked Mickey and Orla about it, but they told me it is incredibly painful without alphas to get you through it.

Not getting the answer I wanted, I went online and found that there are toys to help with your heat. So, I’m making myself a little nest in my closet to ride it out alone. I’m not trying to buck my biology or the fact that I’m an omega. Now that I have a place to live, I’ve stopped using perfume to mask my scent.

I’ve gotten a few side glances from people, especially my bosses, but otherwise it hasn’t made a difference. Caleb and Mr. Lars are going to be overprotective of me whether I’m an omega or an elephant. It doesn’t really matter either way.

One thing I haven’t stopped religiously using, is the little gel under my nostrils. Alphas make my stomach flip-flop when they come up to ask for their drinks, especially the really fucking attractive ones. They could be twenty-one or forty, my body finds ways to show me how appreciative it is for the eye candy, especially the last time I didn’t wear the gel under my nose.

They smell so good, and my pussy immediately slicked. Orla snickered and shoved the gel in my hand, though my tips were tripled that night. Fuck me, it’s embarrassing to want to climb every alpha in sight that looks pretty.

I want to find my scent match.

Waiting sounds more appealing to me, rather than an interminable line of alphas that I only need for their knots. Even if it’s understood upfront that we’d only be using each other for sex, it feels wrong to me.

Maybe I’ll change my mind when I’m tired of being alone.

Orla told me that if I want to find my scent match, then I’ll need to stop using the gel to block their scents outside of work. I’ll also need to do more than just go to work and come home.

Yes, maybe I need to find the time to get a life.

Soon though.

I’m terrified of getting behind, and ending up back on the streets. Orla and Mickey are amazing, but I never want to be late on rent.

I’m on my way to treat myself to some fall scented candles for my room, a new fuzzy blanket that’s burnt orange and red to fit my mood, and maybe a new witchy book. I also plan to swing through a sex toy store to find a few toys with big, juicy knots in preparation for whenever my heat hits.

I may as well take full advantage of my day off, right?

October flew by on me between working at the bar and the coffee shop, though I did get to make myself some pumpkin spiced lattes and apple cider on my breaks. Mr. Lars says we can make ourselves two free drinks while we’re on shift, though I think it’s so I won’t fall asleep on the job some days.

Whatever the reason, sometimes it’s necessary.

I’m wearing a leopard print skirt with a slit up the side, for the pocket knife that I carry when I’m out and about, and a long-sleeved top that saysI left my smile in my other pocket. You get my resting bitch face todayknotted over the top of my skirt.

My combat boots round out my birthday outfit, and I’m wearing my hair in pretty ringlets, with large hoops in my ears. I feel happy. I rarely get to wear my own clothes, since my bartending outfits are on the slutty side, or I’m in myBrewed Awakeninguniform. It’s nice to just be myself.

My hands are full of bags as I end my shopping spree, and my neck prickles with the sensation that someone is following me. I move the bag with my blanket into my left hand so my right is free, allowing my fingers to look as if they’re tangled in my skirt.

In reality, I’m getting ready to grab my knife if needed. Unsure if I should turn to see if I can see the stalker, I choose to take a right before my apartment to begin to walk away from it.

This will take me in the direction of the coffee shop, which is still open. Even though I may not make it there, Caleb’s bar is also this way.

“Oye, girl!” a man barks, making me flinch. My palm closes over my knife, slowly pulling it from the thigh holster as the layers of my skirt hide my hand.

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