Page 56 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

The smell of fresh paint and possibility hangs in the air, mingling with the faint scent of Aria’s perfume. It’s intoxicating, and I find myself taking deeper breaths than necessary. My fingers twitch, itching to bring our plans to life and transform this space into something extraordinary.

It’s just us tonight, and the charged silence between us is both comforting and nerve-racking. I’ve spent the past hour talking her through layout ideas, but my thoughts keep straying from the blueprints to the way she moves and the way her lips part slightly when she’s focused. I clear my throat, trying to pull my mind back to business.

“What do you think about this wall?” I ask, pointing to a section where I sketched out a potential feature display. “Maybewe could make it into a highlight—something to catch the eye right as people walk in. I was thinking maybe a living wall, you know, with plants and stuff, to bring some life into the space.”

Aria nods thoughtfully, stepping closer to inspect the sketch. Her fingers brush against mine as she traces the outline, sending a jolt of electricity through me. “I like it,” she says, her voice soft but filled with enthusiasm. “It would give a good first impression and set the tone for the whole space.” She glances up, and our eyes meet. There’s a softness there, a flicker of something I’ve been too cautious to name.

“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping for,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. I lean against the wall, casually closing the distance between us without making it too obvious. The rough texture of the unfinished wall grounds me. “And for the relaxation area… what do you think of adding some private booths? Something cozy, but still open enough so clients don’t feel boxed in. Maybe with some of those fancy noise-cancelling features?”

Aria tilts her head, considering the idea. Her brow furrows slightly in the way it does when she’s deep in thought, and I have to resist the urge to smooth it out with my thumb. “Cozy, but open,” she repeats, her lips curving into a small smile. “Kind of like us, figuring out this… thing, whatever it is.”

Her words catch me off guard, and I laugh softly, a low rumble that breaks some of the tension. “Yeah, something like that. We’re building more than just a salon here, aren’t we?”

She turns back to the space, but her movements are slower, more deliberate. I watch her closely, sensing a shift in her demeanor. Her steps are quieter now, as if she’s testing the ground beneath her feet. There’s a question in her eyes when she looks at me again, and for a second, I think she might bolt.

“Are you okay?” I ask gently, stepping into her line of sight. “I know this is a lot—us, this place, everything. If it’s too much, we can slow down. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Aria nods, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting mine again. “It is a lot,” she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “But… it’s also good. I haven’t felt this hopeful in a long time. It’s almost scary, you know?”

I take a breath, the air between us thick with unspoken words. My mind races, wondering how the other alphas would react to this moment. I push those thoughts aside, focusing on Aria.

“Aria, you’ve been through so much. I get that trusting us—trusting me—isn’t easy. I don’t want to rush you into anything. We can take this as slow as you need, both with the salon and… whatever this is between us.”

She looks up at me, and there’s a vulnerability in her eyes that makes my heart ache. “You’re different, Quinn. I’ve been trying to figure out why, but it’s hard when I’m so used to being on guard.”

I want to tell her everything—how I’ve seen her strength, her resilience, and how it’s drawn me in deeper than I ever expected. Instead, I just nod, keeping my voice soft. “We all have our guard up sometimes, but we’re figuring it out, right? One step at a time, no pressure.”

She takes a step closer, her proximity sending a rush of warmth through me. I can smell the faint traces of her shampoo, something floral and delicate. “Yeah, we are. It’s… nice not feeling rushed or pushed.”

The air around us seems to crackle, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for a sign that she’s ready for more. Aria’s gaze flickers to my lips, and it’s all the encouragement I need. I lean in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away. She doesn’t.

Our lips meet in a kiss that’s both tentative and electric, a spark igniting in the quiet room. It’s not the kind of kiss that demands or takes—it’s a question, a promise, and when she presses closer, I know we’re both answering it the same way. She tastes faintly of mint, and I wonder if she was as nervous about tonight as I was.

For a moment, everything else fades—the pack, the business, even the lingering threat of Noah. It’s just us, two people trying to navigate the emotions and history that lie between us. The kiss deepens, and I feel her relax against me, her hands finding their way to my chest. My own hands settle on her waist, gentle and undemanding.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless. Her eyes search mine. There’s no regret in her gaze, just a quiet contemplation that tells me she’s processing everything.

“I didn’t expect that,” she says, her voice a little unsteady.

I chuckle, resting my forehead against hers. “Me either, but I’m glad it happened. Are you okay with it?”

Aria smiles a genuine, beautiful smile that makes my heart do a ridiculous flip. “Yeah, I am, but this doesn’t have to change anything about the salon,” she says, her practical side asserting itself. “I still want to work on it, but… I need to take this one step at a time.”

“Absolutely,” I agree, pulling back just enough to see her face. “No pressure or rush. We’ll figure it out as we go. The salon comes first, okay? This… us… is a bonus, not a condition.”

She nods, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “Thank you, Quinn. For this, for everything. For being patient.”

I watch her as she gathers her things, my chest full of cautious hope. We’re on the edge of something new, something fragile and real. I want to hold onto this moment and protect it as fiercely as I want to protect her.

“Same time next week?” I ask as she heads for the door. “I’ll bring the blueprints for the private booths, and maybe we can start looking at color schemes.”

Aria pauses, turning back with a shy smile. “Same time,” she agrees. “And Quinn? Maybe bring some of those kale chips you like. They are starting to grow on me.”

I grin, delighted by this small admission. “You’ve got it. It’s a date. I mean, a meeting. A business meeting. With snacks.”

She laughs, the sound echoing in the empty space, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

I watch her leave, the promise of our next meeting lingering in the air like a sweet scent. As I trace the lines of our business plans with my finger, I can’t help but think about the delicate balance we’re trying to strike between the past and future, trust and fear.

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