Page 30 of Follow the Rhythm
My body recognized the scent before my mind, and I turned towards it blindly, burying my face in Kieran’s chest. My heart was pounding from a potent combination of the adrenaline from nearly being run over and my unruly hormones that recognized the Alpha I was instinctively nuzzling as very compatible.
Kieran’s arms wrapped around me, and he purred raggedly, his breathing as unsteady as my own. The top of my head barely reached his collarbone. “Are you alright, love?”
I nodded. The calming effect of his purr was clearing the adrenaline from my system, replacing it with a kind of drugged arousal. I fought it before I lost myself completely.
I pushed out of his embrace. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”
“I was getting some food. I live around the corner.” He pulled me away from the curb. I noticed the shopping bag dangling from his hand. “What the hell are you doing out here by yourself?”
“I was going to call a cab to take me home before you almostmurderedme. Where’s my phone?”
I searched the ground at my feet, then spotted its crushed remains in the street. It was a harrowing testament to my narrow escape.
“Well, that sucks,” I said dryly.
“For fuck’s sake, I’ll get you a new phone. But you can’t be out here by yourself; it’s not safe,” Kieran growled.
“I was fine until you showed up.” My voice went squeaky with outrage.
“I’m taking you home,” he said.
“No, you’re not.” I would figure something else out.
Kieran sighed and started ticking off his fingers. “You don’t have a phone, it’s almost 9:30, and your scent is strong enough to attract the wrong kind of attention. Iamtaking you home.”
“All of that is your fault,” I said, which was true. If he hadn’t nearly killed me, then purred for me, I probably wouldn’t have burned through my descenters.
He planted himself in my way and grabbed my shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sorry for scaring you. But at least let me get you home safe. Please.”
I sighed, resigned. “Fine, you can call your driver or whatever.”
“Absolutely not, I’m driving you myself. Shall we?”
I looked to the sky, silently asking whatever god was laughing down at me for patience, then followed him.
“Thisis your car? Aren’t you rich?” I asked, incredulous, when Kieran stopped at an old, beige, and very unimpressive sedan in the parking garage of his building. He’d spent the entire two-block walk glaring at everyone who passed and making sure I didn’t walk too close to the edge of the sidewalk. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been infuriating.
“This is a 1980 Jaguar XJ Series III. It is an absolute classic, and a testament to the brilliance of British manufacturing.”
“Wonderful. You’re a car guy.” I slid into the front seat after Kieran unlocked the doors. The interior was nicer than I expected, but I wasn’t going to admit that.
He started the engine and pulled out of the garage. “It’s the car my nan drove when I was growing up. She saved up to buy one brand-new and kept it in pristine condition until I was old enough to learn to drive. I sold the original one when I was at uni, then bought this one as soon as I could afford it. It’s nostalgic.” His voice was still defensive.
I sighed. “I can’t make fun of you for that.”
When I gave Kieran my address, he glowered. “You’re making that commute alone twice a day?”
“It’s only like thirty-five minutes on the train. I’m an Omega, not an invalid.”
“Is that even a safe part of town?”
I huffed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I live in a secure Omega-friendly building with a doorman and everything. Why do you care?”
“I want you to be safe,” he said, merging onto the expressway. Even with minimal traffic, the drive would take at least thirty minutes.
“Me specifically, or just Omegas in general?”
“Why does that matter?”
