Page 22 of Sweet Whiskey
Dallas doesn’t move for another moment before facing me again, some of the desire cleared from his face. “I’ve never almost lost control like that. I was two seconds from knotting you in our public library.”
I blush and clench my thighs together. “Let’s discuss this outside. I don’t think us being in this room is helping much.”
He nods and leaves the room first and heads to the front desk to check out the book he wanted. I scurry past the desk a couple of minutes after him, rudely not acknowledging either of them with a glance or a wave. As soon as I’m outside, I don’t wait for him, needing a minute to myself.
I’m halfway to the inn before I finally stop speed walking and take deep breaths of the cold morning air. Resting against a brick building, I think over the past twenty-four hours. Since my first heat when I was eighteen, it’s been a regular cycle that’s never wavered in the past. And now, since being in town, I’ve had two heat spikes outof nowhere in reaction to men I’ve found utterly irresistible, their scents downright delectable.
I frown. Is it possible they’re my scent matches? Wouldn’t I know for certain? I rest my hand on my stomach, dazed as I think about it further.
Oh my god. We’re scent matches.
My reaction to Colt the first night, how drawn to him I was immediately, should have been my first sign. The way I didn’t question Brooks and Dallas, and the way I wanted them just as badly. I smack my palm against my forehead.
God Kinsey, what was the point of all those years of being at the academy if you don’t even recognize your scent matches?
Shaking my head, I laugh lightly and then start to rush toward the inn.
I run into Brielle on the sidewalk with two coffees in her hands. Her eyebrows furrow when she takes in my flushed face and holds up a cup. I raise an eyebrow, knowing I had left her with a coffee and pastry before I went to the library.
“Don’t ask, but I figured since you’re up before the sun like a freak, you’d be due for another,” she mumbles. I take it, sipping it in a hurry as she watches me.
Her eyes narrow. “You got that frazzled look. What happened?”
“I think they’re my scent matches,” I blurt out.
Brielle coughs up the drink she just swallowed. “Who isthey? What do you mean, scent matches? But we’re on suppressants!”
I grab her elbow and pull her inside our room at the inn. “I think that’s the problem. Since my scent is suppressed, I only get whiffs of theirs and each time…it triggers a mini heat. Dallas had to get me off at the library!”
Her eyes brighten. “Which one is Dallas again? The curlicue blondie? He seems like the type to go down on you between the stacks.”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “No, Dallas is the one with the black hair like a rockstar. Not the beard like Colt.”
Brielle grins. “But you’re not denying the going down part? Was it good?”
“Brielle! Focus on the important part,” I say, snapping my fingers in her face.
She sighs, flopping down on the bed while protecting her coffee. “A man who knows how to eat pussy is the important part. So few of them know how.”
Suppressing my smile, I move to our bag and pull out my suppressants, turning them in my hand to read the warnings. “I’m not crazy, right? Like they could have been suppressing my scent and my ability to smell them?”
Brielle sips loudly. “You’re not crazy.”
Something in her tone has me turning to stare at her with a narrowed look. “That was a confidentyou’re not crazyand not a sarcasticyou’re not crazy. You know something.”
She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Okay, fine. No need to pull my arm. I think I found my scent match too.” She wiggles her fingers for the suppressants.
My mouth drops open, handing them over to her mindlessly. “In the same town? W-what are the chances?”
Her eyes brighten, tossing the pack to the far side of the room as if to discard them entirely. “String theory.”
“String theory?”
Setting her coffee on the nightstand, she sits up, her hands moving excitedly to explain. “I know you shrugged off all the classes about fated mates and all that kind of stuff, not believing in it. But I believe scent matches are a form of them. Maybe over the years, fated mates have diluted down to scent matches. But fate doesn’t just go away, we’re all still attached. Imagine tiny little strings of fate that tie everyone together to weave the universe. Becoming best friends with you all those years ago and following you on this adventure led me to my scent match.”
During our time in the academy, Brielle and I had different priorities with our extra courses. Outside of the required curriculum, I usually took courses to help me get a job, preferably in HR or businessadministration of some kind. Brielle had the privilege of doing more whimsical courses like astrology, tarot reading, and philosophy. I never judged her for it, considering her family was really wealthy, and I would probably do the same if I didn’t have the worry of helping pay bills with my mom. I’d always been too busy to listen to her ramblings, and now my heart aches because I can see how much she genuinely believes and cares about this stuff.
“Wait, who? The bouncer, Jax?” I ask.
