who is this man and where can i find one
THE CHEMISTRY THO
The hearts are pouring in nonstop. My follower count has jumped by over two hundred in the last ten minutes alone. People are tagging friends. Sharing the stream. Creating clips that they're probably already posting to other platforms.
This is viral. This is going viral. Holy shit.
"Oh my gosh," I gasp, covering my mouth with one hand while keeping the camera steady with the other. Professional instincts kicking in even through my shock. "You guys! I'm so sorry! Things got a little crazy there—okay, a lot crazy—but we're all okay! Nobody was hurt, Millie the moose is fine and judging us heavily, and we're about to get an amazing tour around town!"
I beam at the camera, letting my natural enthusiasm and excitement shine through.
This is why people follow me. Not because I'm perfect or polished, but because I'm genuine. Real. I let them into the messy, chaotic, beautiful moments of life.
"Let me get situated and organized, maybe put on some ChapStick because that kiss definitely smudged everything, and I'll be back in a few minutes to show you all of it! Every shop, every decoration, every bit of small-town Christmas magic! This is going to be amazing!"
I throw them one more bright smile, waving enthusiastically.
"Thank you so much for being here! See you in a few!"
CHAPTER 24
Three Alphas & Chaos
~REVERIE~
Ibeam at the camera one last time, my cheeks flushed from the cold November air and the excitement of the last hour exploring Millbrook with Harold as our enthusiastic guide,who knew absolutely everyone and everything about this charming town.
We'd visited the Christmas market that takes up the entire town square—stalls selling handmade ornaments, local honey, knitted scarves in every color imaginable. We'd toured the historic church with its beautiful stained glass windows depicting winter scenes. We'd stopped at a bakery that smelled like cinnamon and gingerbread and made my mouth water. Harold had introduced us to at least twenty people, each one friendlier than the last.
Millbrook is the kind of place that makes you believe in holiday magic. Every building is decorated with lights and garland. Every shop window displays festive scenes. Even the lamp posts are wrapped in red ribbon and greenery.
"That's all from me today, guys!" I say, waving enthusiastically at the camera. "If I stumble upon more adventurous mayhem—which let's be honest, seems pretty much inevitable at this point given how this day has gone—I'll surely be back on live to share every chaotic second with you! Promise!"
The comments are still flying past at lightning speed.
Heart emojis. Fire emojis.
People begging me not to end the stream.
"I'm getting plenty of content today," I continue, glancing at my phone's storage bar that's definitely looking fuller than it was this morning. "Well, if my phone can actually manage to hold all of this footage without exploding, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there!"
I take a breath, trying to organize my thoughts into something coherent instead of the excited rambling I've been doing for the past hour.
"Please follow and share this around if you're in the Christmas spirit and just want to see an Omega like me live my best Christmas life in Oakridge Hollow and all the other adorable small towns I'm hoping to visit over the next six weeks! There's so much magic to discover, and I want to share it all with you! Stay tuned for more adventures!"
I shift my attention to the lifters section, my fingers flying across the screen as I type quick thank-yous to the top contributors who've been sending virtual gifts throughout the stream.
@CozyCoffeeLover - thank you so much for the roses!
@WinterWonderOmega - you're amazing, those galaxy gifts are gorgeous!
@AlphaPackLeader - seriously appreciate the?—
Then I feel it—an arm sliding around my waist from behind, firm and warm and unmistakably Alpha, pulling me backwardagainst a solid body that smells like motor oil and leather and something uniquely Nash.
I look up, tilting my head back to see Nash's face above mine, his expression somewhere between genuinely concerned and thoroughly exasperated with my life choices.
"You're standing in the road," he mutters, his voice low enough that I'm hoping—praying—the phone's microphone doesn't pick it up and broadcast it to my followers.
