Page 216 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus
Melody
My room is lonely. It makes me feel like a giant loser to be here in this super fancy hotel and be hiding in my suite.
If I were back home, I’d be jogging around my neighborhood trying to burn off some energy before bed. I never once felt like it was dangerous to go out after dark alone.
It’s strange to hear how different life could have been if I were born into a normal pack.
The fact my fathers managed to leave my mom even after bonding blows people’s minds when they hear it. For me, it wasn’t that shocking. Then again, I was young, and I didn’t understand how determined they had to be to make that choice.
It’s pretty much unheard of, but after spending a quarter of a century dealing with her mood swings, I can firmly say that I get it. It’s not that I don’t love my mom because I do, but I’m also at a point where I can’t live my life trying to make her happy anymore.
I know it’s impossible, partially due to her mental health issues, and I also think she enjoys being unhappy, or maybe she finds comfort in the turmoil. I’m not really sure, but I’m not prepared to live like her for a lifetime.
A slow smile crosses my face when I remember the look Oliver had while he was sniffing my scent card.
Maybe it’s weird, I don’t know.
All I do know is that it’s an incredible feeling to be desired even if he went about it in a kind of bizarre way.
I roll over in the nest desperately trying to catch any hints of Miller’s scent, but I think I wallowed them away.
My heat is coming up, and I’ll be horny all the time until it hits. The only thing I’ve found to combat that is to run until I’m about to collapse.
I have curves like most female omegas, but I’ve stayed decently fit over the years because I had to learn to find ways to exhaust myself. Running is my go-to for stress relief. It keeps me active, but I used to have a bad habit of obsessing about all my problems while I ran.
I leave the nest and aim for my room. I’m sure they have a gym in the hotel. Damn, I wish I were one of those people who get into the workout zone and that’s all they can seem to focus on.
I’ve learned over the years to focus my mind on plotting scenes for my characters.
There were a lot of years where it’s embarrassing to admit, but I spent hours of my life jogging around our small town waiting to see what I’d find. The sad thing is I regularly found something and yet, I still let him sweet talk his way back in.
I really am pathetic. There’s no other possibility to explain the way I let myself be treated.
Nope, I can’t continue to do this.
I undress and pull on my workout gear before gathering my hair up in a tie. Once I’m back in the suite, I eye the door and the phone.
I know I’m supposed to call for someone to escort me, but that seems so bizarre.
It’s kind of nice in a way.
I mean, it’s a weird feeling to recognize that strangers have more concern for my well-being than my ex-boyfriend did.
I frown, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s too late to bother Miller. Not that I really want him to see me stressed and gross after a workout.
I take several steps toward the door, but the urge to follow the rules is too strong.
Picking up the phone, I call the reception desk to ask for an escort.
There’s a light knocking on the door.
I’ve already got my phone and my key card in hand, so I aim for it.
Checking the peephole, my stomach drops.
It’s not Miller.
I’m ridiculous.
