Page 32 of Stream Heat
We did another few minutes of banter, but by the time I finally hit END STREAM, I nearly slumped out of my chair.
“You pushed too hard,” Reid said, voice a different person than the one who’d just been flirting with me for a hundred thousand people.
“I’m fine.” Which I obviously wasn’t, but I had to say it anyway.
Malik handed me the pills. “Your scent’s spiking. Withdrawal?”
I nodded and swallowed them with a shaky gulp.
Reid’s whole energy shifted. “It gets worse when I’m around, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t have to answer. We both knew it. My system was raw and hypersensitive, and his scent was like gasoline on a fire.
“It’s just chemistry,” I said, more for myself than them. “It’ll fade.”
“Right.” There was a forced casualness in his voice, and I hated how I could feel it vibrating between us.
Malik, always the professional, cut back in. “Stream went well. Engagement better than projected. Sponsors are already calling.”
I forced a grin. “Told you it was worth it.”
“Not if you wreck yourself in the process,” Reid said, already heading for the door. “Next time, we cut off at an hour. No arguments.”
He left, scent lingering like a warning.
Malik just shook his head. “He’s worried about you, you know.”
“I don’t need that.” I rubbed at my forehead, trying to settle myself. “I need to not make a fool out of myself on camera.”
“You didn’t,” Malik said. “The only thing half the chat noticed was you and Reid looking at each other like, well...”
I blinked, surprised by the bluntness. “We were not–”
He smirked. “You absolutely were.” Then, more gently, “That’s exactly the angle we need. The enemies-to-lovers arc is irresistible.”
“It’s an act. Part of the content.”
“If you say so.” Malik’s smile didn’t shift at all. He left me to it, like he knew exactly what I’d choose.
And maybe I did at one point, but by the time I was alone, all I could do was replay every minute on loop, the banter with Reid, the way he’d helped cover my weaknesses, the way he’d looked at me when he said “inevitable.” None of that had been part of the script.
And none of that was safe.
Because I couldn’t afford to be the cliché, couldn’t afford to be the Omega who fell for her alpha packmate with all of social media as a witness. Couldn’t afford to be anyone but Kara Quinn, lone wolf, untouchable. Not now, not ever.
But as I buried myself in bed that night, clutching a pillow that was definitely not mine and trying not to notice how it smelled ever so slightly of cedar, I found myself thinking maybe I was lying about more than just my career.
Maybe the feelings weren’t entirely fake, either.
It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. It was just biology, I told myself as I drifted off. A trick of hormones and stress and withdrawal.
It had to be. Because the alternative, that I was actually falling for Reid Maddox, was a slow-motion disaster that would take my whole life out with it.
But as I slipped into sleep, only one word echoed through my head, relentless:
Inevitable.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
