Page 34 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

“It looks great,” I remark, genuinely impressed. “You have a real vision for this place.”

Quinn meets my gaze, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m not the only one with a vision. Remember your sketches? They were amazing.”

I laugh softly, the sound mingling with the ambient noise of the café. “I still can’t believe I sent those to you. They were just doodles.” I sent of all my sketches. I swear I did it in my sleep. I woke up, and there were a bunch of messages from Quinn praising me.

“They were more than that,” he insists, his tone earnest. “I’d love for you to be a part of this, Aria. Not just as a stylist, but as a partner. We could make this a real sanctuary for omegas, a place where everyone feels safe, beautiful, and maybe even learns a few bad hair puns.”

His words send warmth spreading through my chest, but doubt nips at its heels. I can almost see it—a safe haven I never had before. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I appreciate that, Quinn, really, and I want to be part of this, but I need to do it on my own terms and at my own pace. I have my own battles to fight, you know?”

Quinn nods, his expression understanding. “I get it. No pressure, I promise. Just… think about it, okay? The door’s always open, much like my vast repertoire of salon-related jokes.”

We spend the next half hour chatting easily, the conversation flowing from the salon to lighter topics. There’s a natural rhythm between us, a subtle flirtation that’s comforting rather than overwhelming. The clink of cups and the occasional burst of laughter from nearby tables punctuate our conversation.

As we finish our coffee, Quinn glances at his watch. “Do you want to see the space? It’s just down the street. I promise it isn’t just a hairbrained scheme to spend more time with you.” He waggles his eyebrows comically.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t suppress a smile. “Yeah, why not? Lead the way, pun master.”

We step out into the cool morning air, the bustle of the city enveloping us. Car horns honk in the distance, and the chatter of passersby creates a lively atmosphere. The salon is just a few doors down, nestled between a boutique and a bookstore. Quinn unlocks the door, pushing it open with a flourish.

“Welcome to what will soon be the best, omega friendly salon in the city,” he says, his voice full of pride. “Where the only thing we cut is hair… and maybe a few ribbons on opening day.”

I step inside, the scent of fresh paint and new beginnings filling my nostrils. The potential is undeniable, and as I walk through, I can almost see omegas relaxing in plush chairs, hear soft music playing, and smell the calming fragrances filling the air.

“It’s amazing,” I murmur, running my fingers along the smooth surface of the reception desk. “You’ve done a great job so far.”

Quinn grins, leaning against the doorway. “I still have a long way to go, but it’s getting there. With your input, it’ll be perfect. After all, two heads are better than one, especially when it comes to hairstyling.”

We continue exploring, our footsteps echoing in the empty space as we discuss ideas for the layout and décor. Quinn’s enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself getting swept up in the possibilities. There’s a moment where we stand side by side, looking out the large front windows, and the air between us feels charged, like we’re on the brink of something new.

For a moment, I let myself believe in this future we’re painting.

“Quinn,” I start, turning to face him. “I think… I think I want to be a part of this. I’m not ready to dive in headfirst, but I want to help, even if it’s just with ideas for now. This place… It could be something really special.”

His eyes light up, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing mine in a gesture that’s both casual and intimate. The touch sends a shiver down my spine. “That’s all I could ever ask for, Aria. Thank you. Together, we’ll make this place a cut above the rest.”

We linger for a moment, caught in the quiet thrill of potential and the unspoken promises hanging between us.

I want to kiss him. I can remember the way his lips felt as they caressed mine and the way he touched my chin and held me close.

I miss him.

The tension between us builds, electric and undeniable. Quinn glances at my lips, and I find myself leaning in. The air feels thick, charged with possibility.

He steps close, and I can’t look away. He did all of this for me, and I haven’t even taken a moment to comprehend what this might cost him—his job.

“Quinn.” I breathe his name like it’s sin on my lips.

Quinn’s eyes meet mine, dark and intense. “Aria,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver down my spine.

He takes another step closer, closing the distance between us. I feel the warmth radiating from his body and smell the intoxicating blend of his alpha pheromones. My heart races, pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

“I…” I start, but the words catch in my throat. There’s so much I want to say, so much I’m afraid to admit.

Quinn reaches out, his fingers ghosting along my cheek. The touch is featherlight, but it ignites a fire under my skin. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispers, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw.

I lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed. For a moment, I let myself forget about the complications, risks, and potential consequences. All that exists is this moment and the connection between us.

When I open my eyes again, Quinn is watching me with an expression of such tenderness it makes my breath catch. Slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away, he leans in.

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