Page 33 of Pack Scratch Fever
I nod. “I agree.”
“Also, Mari was talking about setting you up with them for once, instead of Kyle.”
I make a face.
Avery and Maddox would be a huge upgrade to her annoying nephew.
Hell, even Poe is better than that guy.
“Even after the other night, you’re really not interested in them?” I ask Blair carefully. “Because I could see you liking them.”
I’ve tried not to think about it, because I know I have no claim over that pack.
Especially when Blair would be a good match for them, if she ever was looking to date again.
Blair releases Mister Whiskers, who runs away and lets out a displeased growl. We both watch as he barrels into one of the bottom towers of a cat tree, forming into a loaf and staring at us in displeasure.
“Pipe, they’re all yours,” she says. “Besides, who am I to stand in the way of a scent match?”
I scowl as Alma scampers away from me toward a food bowl. “No one said anything about a scent match.”
But I’m not stupid. I’ve started to accept that yes, they are my perfect scent matches.
Even Poe smells like catnip.
It’s ridiculous.
“Uh huh,” Blair replies. “Sure.”
“Besides, even if they were…” my voice trails off, and I make eye contact with Mister Whiskers so he peeks his head out of his hiding spot to glare at me, “…that doesn’t mean we have to be together.”
“Of course not, Pipe. This isn’t a weird medieval timeline. You do what you want with that information. No one’s forcing you to be with them. But I do think it’s something to reflect on.”
I nod. It’s not every day an Omega finds a true scent match, but one of mine is an insufferable prick, and the other two make me freak out internally.
“What would you do if you were me?” I ask Blair.
Mister Whiskers narrows his eyes and lets out a silent hiss.
Blair chuckles. “Go to therapy and get my meds right.”
“Hey!” I glare at her playful expression. “I’m doing better.”
“You are,” she clarifies. “If I thought I'd found my scent matches? I would at least explore it. I know I owe it to myself.”
Blair is always right. Granted, she has her own hangups, and she’s not perfect, but her perspective is always valuable to me.
I wipe fur off my black leggings and huff. “Damn it,” I murmur. “You’re right.”
“Life’s not so hard when you allow yourself to be happy, babe,” Blair adds. “Believe it or not, when we don’t punish ourselves for our choices all the time, it’s pretty awesome.”
I want to argue with her, but I know I’ll lose.
No matter how much I deny it, I know I’m punishing myself for being the only Omega in my family and not being what my parents wanted me to be.
For not using my tuition money the way I should have.
“We’ll see,” I say finally. “Maybe it’s a good idea.”
