I really don’t have time to try and figure out why my chest aches as she walks away from me without even waving hello. The last time I saw her flashes through my mind.
“When are you going to give me a ride?” she asks, biting that perfect bottom lip, making my cock ache.
“A ride?” I ask, confused. What’s she need a ride for?
“In your lap, silly.” She winks, blowing me a kiss before skipping away like she didn’t just fucking say that. I watch the way her hips sway, leaving the scent of her peppermint desire in her wake.
“Fuck,” I grumble, not prepared for the way the memory heats my veins and sends my heart racing or the way my eyes lock onto her ass in that damn dress.
Has she finally given up on me?
I thought she liked the way I resisted her. I thought it’s what she wanted, this flirting game with our expected roles and unspoken rules. I guess I always assumed she’d tell me when she was ready for more. She was only twenty when she first started flirting with me. Her eyes lit up when I told her I wasn’t going to fuck her, like maybe that’s exactly what she wanted to hear.
But fuck, I wanted to.
Only, she was fresh out of a serious relationship, and I wasn’t in the best place emotionally to be a good alpha to an omega like Plum. Plus, I’m ten years older than her. I didn’t think sheshould settle down so young, and there was no chance in hell I was going to be able to fuck her once and then walk away.
Then I realized that refusing her advances really was what she wanted. Her ex did a number on her, and she needed a safe place to express her desire. I thought I gave that to her, but did I completely fuck this all up by going along with this?
Shit, maybe I should have made it clear that I wanted her. That I was just waiting for her to be ready.
Has she moved on to Benson? I know he’d make her happy, that he’d treat her right.But would he drive her fucking wild?Could he bring out that other side of her? The one that makes her come to life as she fights with an alpha twice her size?
Fuck, I can’t dwell on this right now. I don’t have time.
I shake off all thoughts of pretty little omegas and get back to work. I have too much to do to be distracted now. I just never thought she would give up on me. I always believed she’d give in when she was ready. Fuck, am I an idiot? Was it all one-sided? Maybe she never wanted me at all.
Why the fuck did I think she’d ask me to give in to her one day?
As the day passes by in a blur, all my thoughts lead back to Plum. They often do, but it’s different this time. Part of me is terrified I waited too long, and now she’s slipping away from me forever.
All I saw was a damn hug. One hug, and my thoughts are spiraling. I haven’t seen her hug another unmated alpha before, but if Benson and Plum were a thing, he would never shut the hell up about it. She’s an incredible omega, and he’s a yapper.
Maybe I’m overthinking everything. Tomorrow morning I’ll just ask her… No, that would be too fucking obvious. If I’m reading too much into one fucking hug, then I might scare her off. Yet, if I don’t make what I want clear, if I don’t show her thatI desire her, then I might never get the chance after tomorrow. Not if she’s really starting something with my brother.
Even well into the evening and night, I still can’t stop thinking about Plum. What if she doesn’t want me anymore?
What if she never did?
Chapter Five
I spend the morning in my workshop doing my favorite thing, making Christmas ornaments. Today I’m focusing on candy canes.
I hum along to the music playing throughout the shop, losing myself in my work. Tony built speakers in here two days after Dad finished setting it up for me. Some days I like listening to music, and others I play my spicy romance audiobooks.
Today I went with instrumental Christmas music. I love days like this, where I can lose myself to the art of creating something. Art has always been an escape for me, but discovering my love for stained glass has been my happy place, and best of all, I get to sell my creations.
“Plum,” a deep voice behind me grunts.
It startles me so badly that not only do I scream, but the glass ornament I was working on goes flying through the air, shattering against the wall with a dramatic crash. Because when frightened, I like to toss shit. One of my many red flags.
No one ever comes into my workshop for this exact reason.
My dad gives me my space, considering my workshop to be my safe place, and Tony learned the hard way that there’s no such thing as not startling me. Knock on the door? Scream. Tapmy shoulder? Louder screaming. Call my name? Believe it or not, scream.
I whirl around in my chair, glaring daggers at the person who dared sneak up on me. My frustration and fear morph into shock when I see it’s Nick. He’s staring at the shattered mess of glass that I chucked across the room with a frown.
“Nick?” I yelp, more than a little confused about him being here. He’s never been here before.
