Page 15 of Knotty, Nice, & Holiday Lights
As I sit at my favorite table by the window, my back to the door, the bell jingles as it opens, bringing with it the usual waft of cool air. But today, a familiar scent carries on the movement, causing my head to whip to the wall behind me where a tall, dark man stands by a table unpacking a laptop.
Despite the addition of a well-manicured beard on his jaw that’s sharp enough to cut glass, I would recognize this Alpha anywhere. His dark hair elegantly combed back but poofed taller in the front, those mismatched eyes—one green, the other hazel-brown—and that patchouli scent of his.
In fact, he smells even better than I remember.
Just like Asher does.
And I realize something...
A couple of years back, Bec told me she found out that many of the most popular suppressants actually dulled Omega senses, along with our scents. I couldn’t believe it, but I trusted my friend and switched my brand.
The entire world changed after I made the swap.
And maybe that’s why Matthew Cole, my ex-boyfriend, smells like a dream now. Like something I want to bury my face in and smell for eternity.
Like home.
He heads to the counter, and I watch his body move slow and unsure. Not his usual assured gate or posture. He orders something and waits there, back to me, but before his order is ready, his spine straightens and he turns in slow motion.
Actual slow-motion. It’s not how I perceive the movement. It’s like he doesn’t want to see what’s behind him, stare burning a hole in his dark coat.
Like, he doesn’t want to seeme.
I meet his green eye first when he turns to his left, then our gazes lock; the skin around his eyes grows taut, then those mismatched eyes grow round with surprise and confusion.
His deep voice booms through the cafe.
“What are you doing here?”
Chapter Eight
Inwardly wincing at my loud, brash question, my body tenses.
Stupid.
I am a total fuck-up.
Never should’ve left my apartment.
Izzy Ross is here. In Crescent Lake. In the place I ran to so I could escape.
She’s even more beautiful than I dared to remember, with those soft gray eyes, that straight and flowing onyx hair, and her lemon blossom scent.
I was so preoccupied, I didn’t catch her scent. I don’t know how that’s possible when it’s so insanely potent right now.
So very…
The room begins to spin, my heart races in my chest, those familiar invisible hands close around my neck, and I can’t breathe.
Everything in me screams I’m going to pass out, despite my brain reminding me it won’t happen. There’s nothing physically wrong with me. It’s all in my head. All in...
Panic.
Stumbling three steps forward, I grab the back of the nearest chair and hold the cold, solid wood in my hands. I breathe in through my nose, smell the coffee brewing, the scent of lemon blossoms.
Then, my gaze falls on Izzy, the woman I once loved. Still do.
Always will.
