Page 18 of Stolen Omega

The guy works for me. He isn’t here because he likes me. This is his job.

My perfume coming out for him probably counts as workplace harassment.

I lean forward, performing a balancing act with my plate, and I manage to drop the channel changer instead of picking it up.

“Oh, crap …”

I put my plate down on the coffee table, but Russ moves in close and grabs the channel changer from the floor before I get the chance to lean down for it.

“Thanks,” I murmur as he passes it to me.

“No problem,” he says, smiling brightly.

His eyes are so pretty up close like this. They’re such a vivid shade of blue, with silvery flecks that make them sparkle when he’s happy. I just caught a glimpse of that shine, before his smile faded again, and I want more.

Even if he’s not into me like I thought he was.

He clears his throat, settling back into his corner of the plush couch.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” he asks.

“Oh, um …” I look at our choices.

Oh, great. A rom-com or a tearjerker.

We’ve watched everything else in the hotel’s pay-per-view menu besides the horror movie and there’s no way I’m picking that gory slasher-fest while I’m trying to keep my perfume under control. Who the hell knows what’ll happen if I start freaking out? Anything that might provoke an intense emotion is a serious no-go.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to manage that while I’m performing.

So many things can affect me now that my perfume has come to the surface.

Emotions, physical activity, comfort.

Gorgeous Betas aren’t the only thing I’m going to have to worry about.

Not that I’ve ever been attracted to any of the other Betas I’ve been around.

The one sitting next to me is definitely one in a million.

“Re-watch?” I ask, as I scroll down to the buddy cop movie we already watched this week.

It’s the safest option, and I’ll get to see him smile.

“Sure,” he says, not sounding sure.

“It was kind of funny, wasn’t it?”

“It was good.”

Ugh. He’s driving me crazy.

Biting down on the urge to ask what’s wrong, I hit play and scoot forward to pick up a chicken wing from my plate. I put the changer down and dip the wing into the spiciest hot sauce before I start to take little bites.

The sound of the movie’s first scene fills the silence, but there’s still tension in the air.

I don’t think I can stand to sit here pretending everything’s okay while he feels so … conflicted.

His emotions are impossible to read right now, and I think it’s because they’re fluctuating wildly.

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