Page 11 of Knotty, Nice, & Holiday Lights
Yet, I know I’m not.
Before seeing her again, I could recall every strand of her ebony hair, each coal lash that frames those gray eyes of hers, those pink lips… every curve of her form, and that floral scent I could never quite pinpoint that always made my mouth water.
Izzy is really here. With me.
This could be an opportunity. This could be how I get a chance with the Omega who got away years ago.
I never expected to run into anyone I knew here, especially not Izzy. But fate has other plans, it seems.
She usually does.
From the moment I’d first met Izzy in Los Angeles, I’d been drawn to her energy, to her beauty. But it wasn’t meant to be at the time.
She’d been in a relationship, and I… had been withher.
But now I’m not. And I need to know if she’s with someone now. Especially since I somehow found my pack brother here, of all places.
I realize I’ve been gaping at the poor woman like a cod, and snap my mouth shut.
Bloody hell, mate. Get it together.
“So,” I say, a bit louder than I’d meant to, “are you going to be here through Thanksgiving?”
Izzy nods as she sips her water, then twists the cap back on. “Yeah, I figured I could just hang here, low-key. No stress.”
You should spend the holiday with me.Say it, wanker. Speak!
“Erm,” I cough. “That sounds nice.”
Tosser.
She smiles, and it’s absolutely brilliant. I force myself to sip my tea to keep from staring at her again.
Letting out a slow, measured breath, I offer some information about myself, a primer to soften the blow of asking her the question I want the answer to.
“I’m sure you’ve seen that I had a… very public breakup a little more than a year ago.”
Her smile gives way to a solemn yet contemplative expression. “Yeah,” she says with a small wince. “It’s a little hard not to notice those things, even when you don’t keep up with Hollywood stuff.”
Her answer pleases me on some level. She doesn’t actively seek out celebrity gossip. Somehow, I knew that she wasn’t that kind of person, even though I don’t reallyknowher.
My head bobs once, and I hold her gaze as I tell her the truth. “I didn’t do any of the things she’s accusing me of.”
Her warm smile returns, a hint of pity in her eyes, but honest, not performative. “I knew you hadn’t.”
I blink as I lean back a bit. “How?”
“I usually have a good sense for people, and you never struck me as the kind of person that woman is claiming you are.” Her head tilts. “I just don’t understand why you aren’t fighting back harder.”
Ah. And there is the crux of the issue. Why, indeed?
My lips purse a moment before parting to tell her, “I don’t think I have it in me to fight anymore. My reputation is tarnished beyond repair. I’m a pariah. And honestly, I lost all the love I once had for Hollywood. Why would I expend so much energy to get back something I don’t even want?”
Saying this aloud is terrifying and freeing. I hadn’t even told my closest of friends, not even my family. Yet, here I am, sitting with a woman I hardly know yet feel this unexplainable connection with, spilling my darkest secrets with ease.
Izzy’s hand slides across the tabletop to grip mine, holding my teacup’s handle. Her skin is soft and warm, and my body stills at her touch. A rumble threatens to escape my chest, and… am I… am I about to purr?
That can’t be…
