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All the air in our kitchen freezes.
Declan recovers first, snarling, “What omega?”
Theo reaches his limit. He doubles over to lean on the island while he groans. I see why when he shifts, exposing the rigid erection tenting the front of his towel.
“Not again,” he practically whines, dropping his forehead to the countertop. “Fuck me.”
“What omega?” Declan repeats, truly growling now.
“Where?” Ronan demands, his cold eyes narrowing into slivers of ice.
I reach over and grip Theo’s forearm. “We’re listening now. You met an omega?”
“She was in—” Theo chokes and groans, his hips stuttering slightly. The towel clings to him. Barely. Things will get very awkward very quickly if he doesn’t settle down. Theo isn’t known for his impulse control.
He guzzles down deep breaths through gritted teeth. His eyes squeeze shut while he fists his fingers. “She wouldn’t want me to tell you where I met her, but I did, okay?” he finally shoves out.
We all parse that for a moment. Ronan scowls ominously, opening his mouth to bark. I knock his shoulder to stop him. If Theo really found a viable match for us, we shouldn’t start the whole thing off with force.
“When did this happen?” I interject.
“This afternoon,” Theo manages. “She—we—I ran into her, and my body short-circuited, I swear to God. I couldn’t even go to practice. I had to come home and…” He waves at his groin.
The air is so thick, I swear I could slice it with my scalpel. Declan’s stone-still, as if he might crumble. Ronan and I look at each other, both of us wary. I get the feeling we’ve been thinking the same thing all day, and neither of us wanted the other to know.
“What did she look like?” he asks, rasping.
Theo’s teeth grind. His hands flinch. “Little thing. Blonde. Peaches.”
Peaches.
He isn’t making sense.
Except he is.
Because under the thick layer of chemical cover, the little beta who made my head spin smelled…
Peachy.
chapter
eleven
Remi insists I sleep on her futon.
Apparently, the whole almost-going-into-heat-in-public, possible-life-altering-realization, head-blown-off vibe I have going does not inspire confidence in my driving abilities.
She has a point about me being preoccupied. I can barely stop staring into space long enough to put on my borrowed pajamas or brush my teeth.
Remi goes to sleep early because her job at the local coffee shop starts at five a.m. I end up lying on her futon, missing my bed and worrying about silly things to distract myself from the enormous pink elephant standing in the middle of my brain.
Alphas.
Ash pack.
Scent-sensitive.
Mates?
