Picking up my burger, I found the bun now reeked of patchouli. I set it back down, pushing the plate away until the ventilation system could remove the offending smell.
“How do you do that?” I asked. “Just ignore alphas when they’re putting out pheromones around you.”
She tried to hide her evasive glance with a shrug.
“Yeah,” Alijah said, toying with the saltshaker, “I’ve wondered about that too. An entire stadium full of people can be screaming at the top of their lungs, ready to explode if the Narwhals don’t score. Meanwhile, you go about your business like it’s got nothing to do with you.”
That reminded me of her behavior around Tabitha at the housewarming. Most people couldn’t withstand the intensity of a highly dominant alpha’s scent, especially when they exerted pressure. But they’d talked for almost an hour.
And tonight, while dealing with competing flirtatious pheromones from me, Alijah, and those other two alphas, her pupils didn’t react. Breathing didn’t change. She didn’t deviate from her course of questions and spoke to Christine without a single stutter.
She’d never backed down when facing Owen, wavered when Alijah was being sweet to her, or bristled when I leered at her.
Even Wyatt, who was quite literally dying to be with Morgan, couldn’t get a reaction.
And Cal…
I regarded her with a critical eye.
Had Cal ever emitted pheromones around her during the weekend we took care of her? No, I don’t think he had.
But why? Unless…
Pulling out my phone, I did a quick internet search for TBI and loss of smell. The results confirmed my suspicions, yet I didn’t want them to be true.
“The term you’re looking for is anosmia,” she said quietly, taking another sip of her virgin margarita.
Alijah pressed against my arm to read my phone screen. A quiet gasp escaped his lips, and he looked at Morgan. “I saw that mentioned in your heat paperwork, but didn’t know what it meant. Why haven’t you ever said anything?”
“Because it’s safer that way.”
She flagged down the server to order Alijah a new whiskey sour.
“There’s already enough speculation about me on the internet. And,” she said with carefully imbued lightness, “I don’t like people feeling sorry for me.”
My alpha pulsed with anger.
Morgan was an unmated omega, working in a predominantly male environment, which catered to alphas—withouta sense ofsmell—and Cal had never said a word about it to us. Hell, I bet he’d never even tried to stop her.
Rather than act on my first impulse to speed home and seize Cal by the throat, I gripped the edge of the bench. My words twisted into a contemptuous growl. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No, but thanks for asking.” Her lips forced out a smile of mild derision. “Just stubborn as fuck.”
“It’s dangerous, Morgan.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” She gave me a flat stare. “I’m an omega, Joaquin. There’s always a risk, no matter what I do.”
“But not being able to smell…” Alijah repeatedly tapped the saltshaker against the tabletop. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you, but you’ve adapted, haven’t you? It doesn’t get in the way of your job. You’re always the most focused andgenuine person in the room, whose top priority is keeping the players healthy.”
He let out a small laugh and slid the saltshaker away.
“No wonder you don’t react when the players or staff try to flirt with you. They just think you’re ignoring them, or that you can’t pick up their scent because of all the ventilation and scent-canceling spray in campus buildings. No one’s ever realized that you can’t smell anything, have they?”
“Only Cal.”
“The pheromone stud had to do something to earn his title,” I sneered, enjoying the surprised lift of her brow. “Like Owen would keep that bit of hot gossip to himself.”
The ever-pragmatic Morgan redirected us to the topic at hand. “Part of the reason Cal encouraged me to include you in my heat is because I… I struggle with maintaining prolonged arousal. We’ve found a few workarounds, but there’s no guarantee I’ll enjoy the experience. If you haven’t read the full offer yet, don’t be surprised when you see the list of caveats.”