Page 96 of Forget

My thoughts are jumbled as I turn on the water and step inside, the cool sluicing liquid a relief on my skin. Ugh, this is the calm before my heat. I usually have it hit so quickly, I can’t put two thoughts together that don’t begin and end in panic.

Maybe I can handle this.

I remember the way Wren held on through her heat during our fundraiser for Omega’s Haven. She smiled, chatted with people, and if you didn’t know she was in heat, it was undetectable.

Wren even made a speech with me before I told her to leave. There’s sucking it up with grace and then martyrdom.

I keep the temperature on the coldest setting as I shower, washing my hair first. While the conditioner sits in my hair, I balance on one foot to shave my legs. My lips quirk up in amusement as I lather up the body wash after eradicating my body of hair, and I almost feel normal by the time I’m done washing all of the things, including my hair.

Humming to myself, I rub my stomach absently. I need to eat a snack before I drive to my date. It’s in a town near my house and not in Minneapolis, which I appreciate. It’s easier for me to get home this way, and the weather is calling for another snowstorm tonight.

Drying my skin, I squeeze the water out of my hair before plugging in the hair dryer. If I’m going to use hot air on my head, I want as little on skin as possible before I get dressed. I’m aware these are the thoughts of someone on the edge, but as long as I’m not in pain, I can hang on.

Soon, my hair is dry, styled, and curled. I grab a little fan, I keep in the bathroom plugged in, to cool me down.The things we do for beauty.

My skin is flushed as I lean over the fan with my eyes closed. Denial is not just a river in Egypt, but I’m going to do my damnedest to keep it together.

Shivering as the fan does its job, I continue to get ready while naked.

I’m completely comfortable with my body in the privacy of my own room. It’s mine, and I’ve lived in my skin for twenty years. Grabbing my lotion, I moisturize now that I know I’m not going to sweat it off, and then wash my hands in order to tackle my skin care.

Twenty minutes later, my eyes have a smoky brown look, my makeup is on point, and my pinky nude lip is working for me.

Grinning, I stride to my closet, pulling out a black corset top, leather skirt, and suspender style tights. If this date goes well, I don’t want to be fighting them. Not everyone is comfortable wielding a knife like some alphas.

My pussy is starting to slick whenever my thoughts turn to Domh, even when I tell her not to, so I pull out the moisture and scent wicking panties in an effort to keep the alphas I’m going to see from smelling me.

Glaring at them, I ask myself if I really want to wear them. The entire point of these dates is to be myself, and the extra padding between myself and the alphas I’m going to meet is a lie. If I’m turned on, I want them to know. If they can’t handle me horny and perfuming, then I doubt they can handle my heat either.

Tossing them back into my drawer, I pull out a pretty pair of thong panties. The technology promises that I won’t slick through them, but I’ve never had the chance to wear them.

I’m not brave enough to wear the crotchless panties that I bought with Wren online on a dare, so I’ll have to build up to it.

Wine and online shopping is always fun with her and Flynn.

Getting dressed, I find a pair of high-heeled black boots as well. I’ll have to be careful on the slick sidewalks, but I should be okay.

Setting them to the side to put on before I walk out the front door, I dig in my closet for a warm, dark blue coat to throw over my outfit. I love pops of color, and this will be mine. Moving over to my jewelry stand in my closet, I pick out a pair of pretty blue Austrian crystal stud earrings that I recently bought myself, and put them on.

Now, I’m ready to go, once I grab my knife and clutch.

Gazing at the pretty green handle, I sigh as I secure it to my tights-covered thigh. I feel really sexy, though not so much that I’ll be embarrassed to walk by my father on the way out of the house.

Loosely tying my coat, I grab my scarf and mittens, putting them on before I throw a few things into my clutch. Picking up my boots as I walk out of the closet, I leave my bedroom. It feels as if I’m leaving a safe space as I do, and I sigh as I look over my shoulder.

“Why can’t dates happen in fuzzy pajamas in bed with movies?” I grumble. I’m going to stop by the kitchen for a piece of Chef’s emergency chocolate, because I really don’t want to be grumpy right now.

Dropping my boots at the foot of the stairs while still being out of the way, I swing by the kitchen for my attitude adjustment. Chef whistles as I pad in on my stockinged feet, my lips parting into a wide smile.

“Why thank you,” I say with a chuckle. “I need a piece of chocolate before I go, it’s the last thing on my list.”

“Only you would have chocolate on your list,” Dad teases from the kitchen table. He’s having a cup of cappuccino, which he typically does in the afternoons.

“Chocolate is life,” Chef grunts, opening a cupboard to grab it. Opening the jar of individually wrapped heaven, he offers it to me with a wink.

“Thank you,” I say, picking out a piece and opening it. Popping the whole thing in my mouth, my eyes roll back in my head as it starts to melt. “So freaking good.”

“It’s like an omega’s religious experience,” Dad teases me. He’s not wrong, and I have never minded his teasing. It’s never had any bite to them.

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