Page 55 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

As he steps out, I lean against the wall, trying to steady my nerves. What just happened? More importantly, how do I feel about it? The moment with Quinn felt charged and exciting, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind, one that sounds suspiciously like Dash. Beneath it all is a darker whisper—what would Noah do if he knew about this place?

I shake my head, pushing thoughts of Dash and Noah aside. This is about the salon and my future. I can’t let personal complications cloud my judgment, even if those personal complications are tall, handsome, and smell really, really good.

When Quinn returns, his earlier intensity has been replaced by a businesslike demeanor. “Just a minor mishap with some supplies. All sorted now.” He claps his hands together. “No rogue furniture attacks to report.”

We spend the next hour exploring the space, Quinn pointing out each new addition with the enthusiasm of a kid at a science fair. The private booths are coming together, with sound-dampening panels already in place. There’s even a small area set aside for the self-defense classes we discussed, a tiny nod to my need for control and security. Nothing says relaxing spa day like the ability to roundhouse kick an attacker, right?

As we unpack chairs, our hands brush, and I glance up to find Quinn watching me, his expression soft and a little bit unguarded.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light. “Do I havefuture salon mogulwritten on my forehead?”

He shrugs, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “Just… enjoying the view. You look happy, Aria. It suits you. It’s much better than your usualone sarcastic comment away from committing a felonylook.”

I feel a flush creeping up my neck. “Yeah, well… this is pretty amazing. I can’t believe how quickly it’s all coming together. Are you sure you aren’t secretly a time lord?”

Quinn sets the chair down, his tone turning serious. “I meant what I said. I believe in you, Aria. In us. This salon isn’t just a business, it’s a fresh start—a place where you can be yourself without all the alpha posturing and omega expectations.”

His words hit me somewhere deep, and for a moment, I let myself picture the future he’s hinting at, but reality is quick to creep back in, bringing with it thoughts of the other alphas, of Noah, and all the tangled threads of my life that I haven’t quite figured out.

“I need you to know,” I say softly, meeting his gaze, “that this salon is like my own personal escape hatch, you know? But… there’s still a lot I’m sorting through with the pack, with… everything. It’s like I’m juggling chainsaws while riding a unicycle on a tightrope over a pit of lava.”

Quinn nods, understanding clear in his eyes. “I get it. We’ll take it one line of code at a time, okay? No system overload. And hey, if you need help with those chainsaws, I know a guy.”

As we finish up, I take one last look around. The space hums with potential, with dreams waiting to unfold.

“What do you see now?” Quinn asks gently, his voice pulling me back.

I meet his gaze, feeling a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time. “I see a future where I’m calling the shots, not just ducking them, and a place where I can be Aria, not justthat omegaor the girl running from her past.”

Quinn’s smile is radiant, and for a moment, I let myself bask in the warmth of his approval. As we lock up and step out onto the street, though, reality comes crashing back. The salon may be a dream come true, but my life is still a tangled web of pack politics and conflicting emotions.

“Dinner?” Quinn suggests, gesturing toward a cozy bistro down the block. “We could celebrate our progress. I promise not to bore you with coding analogies for at least the first course.”

I hesitate, torn between the desire to prolong this bubble of possibility and the nagging feeling that I need to sort through my thoughts alone. “I should probably head home,” I say. “It’s been a long day, and I have a lot to process… like an entire hard drive’s worth.”

Disappointment flickers across Quinn’s face, but he nods in understanding. “Of course. Take all the time you need, Aria. I’ll be here when you’re ready, probably building a robot army or something equally productive.”

I nibble my cheek, looking around. The thought of going back to my empty apartment, with its echoes of Dash’s vigil and Noah’s ever-present shadow, suddenly feels unbearable. “Or,” I say, surprising myself, “we can order takeout and keep unpacking? I mean, if you aren’t sick of me yet.”

Quinn’s eyes light up at my suggestion. “Now that’s an idea I can get behind,” he says, grinning. “Chinese? There’s a great place just around the corner. They make dumplings that could make you forget all about alpha drama.”

I nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Perfect. I’m starving. Feed me before I turn into a hangry omega monster.”

We call in our order and return to the salon, the familiar scent of fresh paint and new beginnings welcoming us back. As we wait for the food, we continue unpacking, our conversation flowing easily between salon plans and casual banter.

The food arrives, and we settle on the floor, surrounded by half assembled furniture and stacks of boxes. It feels oddly intimate, like we’re sharing a secret.

“To Aria’s Oasis,” Quinn says, tapping his chopsticks against mine. “May it be as resilient as its namesake, and may we never run out of hair dye or sarcastic comebacks.”

I laugh, returning the gesture. “To Aria’s Oasis,” I echo, pushing away thoughts of Dash, Noah, and the complications that await outside these walls. For now, I let myself enjoy this moment of peace and possibility. “Where the hair spray is plentiful and the drama is… well, let’s not kid ourselves. There will probably still be drama.”

As we eat, I find myself relaxing, the weight of the past few days lifting slightly. Quinn tells me about his plans for the grand opening, his enthusiasm infectious. I chip in with ideas about promotions and services, and for a while, it’s easy to forget about everything else, but as the night wears on, I can’t help but wonder how long I can keep juggling these different worlds before something gives or before I accidentally set one of those chainsaws on fire.

26

QUINN

The empty salonspace feels like it’s holding its breath, a canvas waiting for our dreams to paint it to life. The soft hum of distant traffic and the glow from the streetlights filtering through the windows cast everything in a warm, almost dreamlike haze. I stand near the entrance, the plans for the salon laid out on a makeshift table, but my eyes keep drifting to Aria as she walks the length of the room, her gaze lingering on every detail.

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