"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "You've got me all wrong. I'm not judging your hobby. I mean, honestly, Taylor." I gestured to my suit. "Look at me! Can you not tell I'm a fellow connoisseur of the fabric arts?"
Taylor's hackles fell. "Yeah. Guess that's true."
"Believe me, I know how much work and effort goes into quilting. Even a dragon like myself can't muster that much patience."
A slight smile appeared in the corner of Taylor's mouth. "Finally, something a dragoncan'tdo."
I smiled in return, happy to see him in better spirits.
"Can I see some of your projects?" I asked.
Taylor shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I didn't bring them, but I have photos."
"I'd love to see them. Ah, they're not on your phone, are they?"
Like most reality TV contestants, Taylor had had his phone confiscated for the duration of filming. For a second, I was filled with disappointment that I wouldn't get to see his work.
But Taylor shook his head. He reached into his bag and pulled out a few printed digital photos. "Nope. When Winnie said I couldn't bring my phone, I printed these out for reference. Figured I'd need something to do at night when I was bored."
He sat on the edge of the bed and spread the photos in his hand like cards.
"Come sit next to me so you're not looking from a mile away," he offered.
My heart skipped a beat. I wasted no time slipping beside him. It wasn't just my heart that was affected by Taylor—the whole room smelled like him, and up close like this, it was impossible to ignore his scent. I tried not to think about the way it sizzled in my stomach.
"Here's a project I did for a local competition," Taylor said, handing me a photo.
It featured a huge quilt, larger than the hotel's king-size bedspread. It was made up of hundreds of smaller patches in a dizzying array of colors. Despite the patchwork, it looked cohesive and well thought out.
"Taylor," I murmured. "You made this?"
He nodded curtly. "Took a couple months of work, but I'm single and had nothing else to do, so..."
"It still blows my mind that you're single."
He shrugged. "I'm used to it. Here."
Expertly dodging the topic, he handed me another photo. This was of a smaller, softer quilt with pastel shapes. Just looking at it melted my heart.
"This was for a co-worker's newborn baby," Taylor said with undeniable warmth in his tone.
I smiled. "You like babies?"
"I love them. And not because I'm an omega," he added defensively.
"What, you think I'm some kind of alphahole who assumes all omegas are baby crazy?"
He arched a brow. "I don't know, are you?"
"Ouch, Taylor." I mimed clutching my heart.
A blush spread across his cheeks. "Sorry. I didn't mean it. You don't seem like the type... even though you're on this stupid TV show."
"So are you," I shot back.
He grinned once again like we shared an inside joke. "We're even, then."
Seeing his smile this close felt like a blessing. Taylor was absolutely gorgeous. I examined his face, burning every line of it into my memory.
