She maintains these romantic notions about scent matches because a friend of hers, Alex, whom she also helped during a rough time in her life, stumbled on her scent matches at thecircus, of all places. She believes that if Alex found love there, anyone has a chance.
I’m surprised she opened up a coffee shop instead of a matchmaking agency.
“He’s on suppressants.” I don’t tell her how my stomach swoops when I think about the possibility. “Besides, we’ve been friends forever. If we were meant to be together, we’d know by now, wouldn’t we?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Maybe, maybe not. There’s only one way to find out.”
It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. While Beta and Omega scent matches are uncommon, I’ve heard of a few in my life. If I were to have a scent match, I’d want it to be Felix.
I love him. I always have.
We’ve been friends since college and have always gravitated toward one another from the moment we met. He was playing hacky sack, wearing a hoodie that dwarfed him, and had a massive, gorgeous smile on his face. I couldn’t look away. I had been staring at him for a minute or so when his eyes snapped to mine, and something told me I had to speak to him. We ran toward one another, chatting like we’d known one another our whole lives. We’ve been friends since.
In the ten years I’ve known him, I’ve never been around him when he’s off suppressants.
And it’s not like I could ask him to go off of them for my sake. What would I even say? “Hey, Felix, I’m in love with you, and I want to find out if we’re scent matches because all I can think about is being with you, and nothing else could ever be as right and as good as we could be. But if we’re not scent matches, can you forget this ever happened so you can find your Alpha and leave me behind?”
Because an Omega doesn’t need a Beta when they havean Alpha.
No, I’d better not. It’s easier to pretend that my soul doesn’t ache when lying in bed at night.
Why would he ever choose me? What do I have to offer him? I have no savings. I’m working part-time as a barista, and I don’t even have my own place to live. I add no value to his life.
“Do you want to head out early?” Sylvia asks, jarring me out of my thoughts. “It’s slow enough.”
I pull off my apron and fold it carefully. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks, Sylvia.”
She waves off my thanks and pushes a to-go cup of cider into my hands. “Do me a favor, will you?”
I stifle my groan. I have a feeling I know what is coming, but I can’t brush her off.
“Sure. What’s that?”
“Ask for what you really want this Christmas. Not some gadget, or purse, or gift card. What you really, really want.”
What I want is to know is whether my best friend and I are meant to be together without ruining our friendship.
But I’d never ask for that.
“Clara? Is that you?”
“Who else would it be?” I call back, kicking my boots off. “No one else has a key.”
Felix pokes his head around the corner, his curly, honey-brown hair falling into his dark blue eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re not supposed to be home yet, so maybe you are a very polite robber or something.”
I follow the scent of pumpkin soup into the kitchen,wrapping my arms around Felix when he turns to me. His knock-off cashmere sweater is soft under my cheek, a classy contrast to the ugly sweater Sylvia has mandated I wear for the entire month of December. “Sylvia let me go early. The market was slow.”
Our kitchen is compact, but cozy. The apartment we share is a little dated, but I have never loved a place I’ve lived before as much as this one. The cabinets have that ugly blonde wood that was once popular, and the appliances are yellowing white, but we’ve made it our own. Right now, it’s decked out to the nines in Christmas decorations.
I’m not going to tell Felix he can’t string the garland and hang up the Candy Cane Lane signs he loves so much, even if they’re not to my taste. He smiles every time he sees them, which is good enough for me.
“That’s surprising. Isn’t it normally busy all the time right now? There are only ten days until Christmas.”
I reluctantly untangle myself from him. “Just an off day. I’m sure tomorrow it’ll be jam-packed with shoppers trying to finish up their lists before the parties start.”
He blushes and ruffles the back of his hair. “Speaking of parties…”
“Oh, is your company having one?”
