“Miss Williams.”
Jasmine touched me on the shoulder and firmly pushed me away from the Alpha and his guitar, toward the bright lights and the stage. I couldn’t look away from him, though. I couldn’t walk away. I couldn’t?—
“Eva,” Jasmine said. “You’re about to be the cause of dead air. Get out on stage. They will be here when you get back.”
“Jasmine,” I whined without choosing to do so.
“I know. I knew the second you smelled a candle that doesn’t exist. The way they look tells me you’re all in the same boat. Now trust me and get the fuck out on stage.”
Right. Right.
I turned and tried to find some kind of poise. Any kind. Good luck with that, Eva. Every single piece of my Omega felt like she was stepping on broken glass walking away from them.
You’re not walking away. You’re just taking a brief intermission. Before…
Nope. I couldn’t think about any of the things that cameafter. Because then the entire auditorium would be filled with perfume, and that would be hard to explain.
The stagehand gave my cue, and it was only muscle memory that pasted my smile on as I walked out under the bright lights to a wave of applause.
I was about to eat my words. Having the teleprompter there was a fucking lifesaver.
“Every year, a group of actors charm us, steal the scene, and win our hearts. Here are the nominees for Favorite Supporting Actor.”
The reel of the nominees began to play, giving me a few seconds to breathe. One look back at the entrance of the stage showed methem. Jasmine stood in front of them as if she’d had to stop them from following me onto the stage. The pull toward them wasphysical.
Every story I’d ever heard about scent matching was nothing compared to this.
The lights came back up, and I smiled into the camera, sliding my finger under the golden envelope’s flap. “And the winner is… Carson Lord.”
I smiled as Carson stood and made his way to the stage. He was a friend, both of us having been thrown into the same kind of roles for years. We’d probably done more movies with each other than with any other actor.
He grinned and pulled me into a hug before he stiffened. “You okay?” A whisper.
“Why?”
A soft laugh as he pulled back. “You know I love you, but I also know all that perfume isn’t for me.”
I swallowed. “Backstage…”
He smiled and kissed my cheek. “You can tell me about it later.”
Right. We were in front of about a thousand people. Carson took his trophy from one of the attendants and stepped forward to make his speech. I wished I could pay attention. But every sense I had was overwhelmed and trying to pull me back to where I’d left them standing.
Even here, I could sense drifting tendrils of their incredible scents.
Mine.
The lights began to dim, the audience clapped, and Carson ushered me off the stage. Over the speakers I heard, “Please welcome,Mindless Delirium.”
Mindless Delirium.
That was their name, and they were walking toward us onto the stage. Just them coming in this direction had waves of scent flowing over me that made my knees weak. Bourbon and mint and mandarin. A whine slipped out, and the bass player, the one who caught me, grabbed my hand as I passed in the darkness.
“Don’t leave. Please.” His voice sounded every bit as desperate as I felt.
“Not a fucking chance.”
A flash of a smile and he was gone, taking his place on the stage before their drummer counted them in, the lightsblazed, and music poured out of them. Damn, they were good.
