Chapter 27
June
Tension radiates down my spine, and I stiffen it, standing taller in the new black stiletto heels I picked up on sale, to go along with the dress I borrowed from Lucia.
“It’s just a date,” I whisper, biting my lip as I hover by my front door. “There’s no need to be scared.”
It’s been two days since I last saw my scent matches, and Torin, it seems, was listening when I told him I didn’t want to see him again. He’s staying away. Even better, he passed the message on because I haven’t seen Callum or Archer either.
Moving on is good.
Dating is a sign—the best sign I could give—that I’m ready to move on. I can’t trust my scent matches, and I need to build a life for myself with people Idotrust.
When I’m cleaning the hotel, Torin’s warning bubbles up in my mind. On the bus home, I stare into space and worry instead of looking forward to a cozy date any girl would love. Torin’s words are always there, an insidious whisper growing louder in my head.
Maybe I can’t trust Oscar after all.
“What if you didn’t ask and Torin was right?” I whisper to myself.
Turning from my front door, I fish my cell phone out of my purse and scroll through my contacts until I find Oscar’s number. Then I hit dial. I stare out of my apartment window as the phone rings in my ear.
Click.
“June?”
The moment Oscar’s rich voice flows into my ear, all my doubts melt away. When I’m talking to him, I don’t doubt. When it’s just me, all I do is doubt. Why is that?
My fingers tighten around my cell phone. “Hi, Oscar.”
“I was just getting ready to leave,” he says. “Did you want me to pick you up instead of meeting at the restaurant?”
We exchanged numbers, but something is making me hesitant to tell him where I live.
“June?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“Um, sorry, I was just thinking.”
“About tonight?”
I fumble for a response that won’t make him think I’m crazy. “My friend lent me a dress for it,” I blurt out.
It’s black lace with strappy sleeves, and even I could believe Lucia when she said I was getting laid tonight. It’s a dress that looks like lingerie.
“I look forward to seeing you in it,” he says softly.
He always knows the right thing to say. And he has always, ever since I met him, said the right thing.Exactlywhat I’ve needed and wanted to hear. Is that weird? Why am I thinking that’s weird now?
My fingers sweat around the cell phone in my hand, and my heart begins to race. “What were you doing downtown when we first bumped into each other?”
He chuckles. “Lost, if you can believe it. Is something wrong?”
Yes, something is very wrong.
It’s wrong that he was in a part of town that he had no reason to be in.
Wrong that we bumped into each other in a three-star hotel when he drives a Mercedes, carries a $5,000 designer leather bag, and is the CEO of a private hedge fund. An alpha like that doesn’t stay at the sort of hotel I work at.
“June?”
