Page 33 of The Mating Game
I don’t even know her, I argue weakly.
The omega in question remains sprawled across my bed, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil she’s caused. I watch her from my bathroom doorway, telling myself to leave her there, to sleep somewhere else, to putdistancebetween us—but I can’t seem to move away.
I know, I can’t sleepwithher. That would make for a whole new onslaught in what will surely already be an awkward conversation.
Leave.
Just leave.
I stand in place for seconds more, simply staring at her.
Then, with a curse, I plod over to the chair in the corner and plop myself down in it. I know without a doubt that I’m going to sleep like shit tonight, but it seems my alpha is refusing to let Tess out of our sight. I watch her until my eyes grow heavy, worried for what the morning will bring.
Worried that if she asks for my help again, I won’t be able to refuse her next time.
When I joltawake the next morning, the sun streaming in through the blinds, the first thing I notice is that my bed is empty. I sit up straight, my heart immediately starting to pound, and my head whips back and forth as I try to make sense of the fact that my sheets are now sans Tess.
My skin feels itchy with her absence, and despite knowing that my instincts are apparently still running the show, I find myself stalking to my bedroom door and throwing it open with the intention of finding her and making sure she’s okay anyway. The door to her bedroom is closed, and figuring that turnabout is fair play, I don’t hesitate to raise my fist and beat against the wood. I hear her shuffling around in there immediately, her shadow appearing at the crack under the door.
“Tess,” I call, but there’s no answer.
I knock again, a little harder this time, but her door remains frustratingly closed.
“We’ve got to talk about it, Tess,” I sigh, still feeling restless because I can’t see her.
It seems that despite the fact that we didn’tactuallyget physical, my alpha has decided she’s ours to take care of until she’s…better. Something that will prove difficult when another wave hits. I don’t know if I can survive another without touching her.
Which is why we need to talk.
“Tess! I’m not leaving, and I live here, so you can either open the door, and we can talk about it, or I can—”
She wrenches the door open, and then she’s standing there, her hair a mess and her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her pale skin rosy at the apples, and her wide brown eyes even more owlish than usual. The dark circles underneath them certainly aren’t helping matters.
“I was hoping if I pretended you weren’t real long enough, maybe you’d go away,” she mumbles.
“Clearly not,” I remark.
She sighs, leaning against the doorframe as she scrubs a hand down her face. “A girl can dream.”
“We have to talk about it. We have to decide what you’re going to do before another wave—”
And then it hits me.
I can’t scent her heat anymore.
I lean in despite her garbled protests, inhaling at her throat deeply. Nothing. She smells normal now. Granted, even herusualscent is mouthwatering, but it doesn’t have my knot threatening to swell, at least.
I rear back, confused. “How can it already be over?”
“Yeah…” She rubs at the back of her neck. “About that…” She winces. “Are you sure we can’t just pretend nothing happened?”
I grit my teeth, still remembering the hell that was last night, when I was forced to stick close to her despite being tortured by her delicious scent.
“No,” I tell her resolutely. “We can’t.” I feel frustration building inside me. “How could you be so careless?”
Her eyes go wide. “Excuseme?”
“You come here on the cusp of your heat—no suppressants—and you just don’t say anything? Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been? What if I’d been a bad guy? What if I’d taken advantage of you?”
