My carefully prepared job hunting pitch goes down the drain as nerves take over. I wasn’t expecting an alpha.
I don’tlikealphas.
And apparently, the feeling’s mutual.
He shakes his head abruptly. “We don’t, sorry.”
Even though I expected it, it still hurts to turn around and face the door. I just need one more minute to breathe it all in. God knows I’ll never be coming here again.
A throat clears behind me. “Wait.”
I pause, hope expanding my chest as I turn to look back at him.
“I can help you.” The possibility shatters in an instant as his eyes glance down, taking in my crappy old sneakers covered in all sorts of shit, thanks to my shifts at the diner.
Drawing myself upright, I take a step back, wrapping my arms around me protectively. The alpha’s eyes widen. “I didn’t mean—”
But I don’t stay around to hear it. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks as I head for the door.
“Wait!”
Breaking into a run, I shove the door open and pound down the steps. My feet beat out a loud pattern on the concrete as I sprint around the corner before pausing for breath, resting against the wall.
I don’t want to hear whatever offer the alpha with the pretty eyes was going to make.
Because from someone like him? In that place? I might actually be tempted to give the last little piece of myself up.
And that’s the one thing I swore I’d never do.
ChapterThree
Nate
My hand closes on empty air as the door swings shut behind the omega, leaving the faintest scent of butterscotch lingering in the air.
Someone clears their throat in front of me. There are customers waiting to be served, but my eyes are fixed unwaveringly on the door.
“It’s Nate Reyne,” someone whispers.
I’ve never shied away from who I am, but just once, I wish I was anonymous. My foot steps forward, instinct driving me to hunt the omega down, to find out why she’s too thin and why the fuck her sneakers have a hole in the top.
My focus snaps when a hand claps on my shoulder.
“Nate? We’ve got customers,” Hudson says, his tone chiding. He takes a step around me, opening his arms wide. “Welcome to Il Piacere,” he announces warmly. “Here, let me take your coats.”
He eyeballs me as he walks past, leading the disgruntled group to their table before reappearing.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asks, poking my arm.
“I… nothing.” She’s gone, that delectable scent already fading from the air, as if she’d never been here at all.
Taking one last breath, I turn and follow Hudson back into the main restaurant, moving between tables, chatting and signing autographs until my feet ache and my mind feels clearer.
But I can’t get the omega out of my head.
Petite, barely reaching to my shoulders, skinny as all hell with bags under her wide blue eyes. Dark hair hinting at thickness yanked back into a sloppy braid.
And fear in her gaze.
