I shouldn't eavesdrop—it's rude, an invasion of privacy—but there's something about her voice that keeps me rooted to the spot.
"It would be perfect! The tagline could be—'Healing Hearts, One Cup at a Time.'"
Oh, that's good. That's really good.
"Thank you! C'mon, it would be a bestseller! Think about it—cozy, small-town romance with an Omega who just wants to be in love.Reallove. Not the bullcrap we see on TV where Omegas are just there to look pretty and be claimed. I want the slow burn, the groveling, the tension, the sexual epicness!"
She's passionate about this.
You can hear it in every word—this isn't just idle daydreaming. She's thought about it, built it in her mind, given it shape and substance.
There's more—something about an Omega who's had fallout after fallout with packs, who thinks love is hopeless until she meets an Alpha at the cafe. A classic meet-cute involving spilled coffee and apologies and hands touching in that electric way that changes everything.
Another voice cuts in, teasing: "Is Reverie going on one of her plotting sprees again?"
Reverie. Her name is Reverie.
I test the name silently, liking the way it feels.
It suits her—that voice full of dreams and possibility.
"But mark my words, I'm gonna find someone to write this idea, and it'll be amazing. Better than the Bakedverse series everyone is going gaga for!"
Laughter follows, warm and affectionate. Her coworkers clearly adore her. Then they're encouraging her to get her sugar cookies before they're gone, and her footsteps fade away toward what must be the staff room.
I should move. Should go back to browsing, mind my own business. But I stay there, listening as her coworkers continue talking.
"She has so much energy," one of them says—a woman, older, with the kind of voice that's seen a lot of life. "Must be nice to be young."
"Thanks to her lives, the store's been getting international readers traveling down to our town," a man adds. "It's amazing for business. Miss Bea is thrilled."
"She's been doing miracles for Hazel's cafe too," another voice chimes in. "Struck some huge deal. They want her to do modeling now as well."
"Must be nice. Things have been going wonderfully for her ever since she struck that deal with Rowan and his pack."
Rowan. The name sounds familiar. I think Nash mentioned him once—some pack in town that keeps to themselves, mostly. He’s a firefighter…Nash surely did training with him for some self-defense classes for Omegas.
There's a sigh, heavy with concern.
"I hope our girl can find a pack. Must be lonely this time of year."
"You don't recall?" Another voice, quieter. "She was in a pack. They were super toxic. Abusive even."
I freeze, my hand tightening on the bookshelf.
Gasps echo through the shop as the others are pulled into the gossip.
"Yeah, I think the Alpha was Kael or something. His pack is well known in the city. Rich. Talented. They can get anything and anyone they want, honestly. It's a shame they threw her out like some rag doll."
I turn away, my jaw tight, anger simmering in my chest.
I hate gossip. Hate it with everything in me.
Gossip ruined my last relationship, spread lies until there was nothing left but ashes and mistrust.
Before I met Nash and Theo. Before I learned what real pack meant.
But this... this isn't idle gossip. This is concern…worry for someone they clearly care about.
