"Just give me a second to calm down before we keep going."
Oh.
Oh.
The realization lands like a comet. Not a slow dawning awareness. An immediate, full-impact collision with the understanding that my completely innocent ice cream enjoyment has had a decidedly non-innocent effect on the six-foot-two Alpha standing in front of me, and my entire bodyresponds to that information with a rush of heat that has absolutely nothing to do with embarrassment.
I lean closer.
His pine and cedar scent thickens in the space between us, laced with something warmer, something richer that was not there a minute ago. A darker note beneath the clean woodsy freshness, like embers buried under snow. My Omega instincts catalogue it instantly, filing it away in the part of my brain that responds to Alpha pheromones with a precision I wish I could apply to my coursework.
"Do I turn you on?" I ask, my voice pitched low enough that only he can hear.
Etienne's jaw tightens. His eyes lock onto mine, and for a suspended breath, we just stare at each other on this frozen sidewalk while the world continues around us like it has not noticed that the air between two people just became thick enough to cut with a blade.
He pouts.
Actually pouts. The expression is so out of place on his usually composed face that I nearly burst out laughing, but the look in his eyes is too heated for laughter, too raw, too honest in a way that pins me where I stand.
"You are thriving at the idea, aren't you?" he mutters.
"Very," I grin, wide and unapologetic, and then I take a massive bite directly out of the remaining chunk of waffle cone and ice cream.
Teeth first. Into the frozen mass. Like a shark.
Etienne recoils in visible horror.
"How the hell did you BITE into that without freezing your teeth?" He stares at my mouth like I have just performed an act of witchcraft. "That is not normal. That is physically concerning. Are your nerve endings functional? Should I be worried about you?"
I giggle with the chunk of ice cream still lodged in my mouth, my words muffled and probably unintelligible.
"Ih mah thuperpower," I mumble through the frozen mouthful, puffing my cheeks out for emphasis.
He groans, dragging his palm down his face in exasperation.
"You are going to get a brain freeze doing that. Your body is not designed to process ice cream at that velocity. There are biological consequences to shoving frozen dairy into your face like a competitive eater."
"NEVAH!" I declare, throwing my fist into the air with theatrical defiance. "I am immune! I have transcended the limitations of the human nervous system! I am the chosen one! The prophecy foretold of an Omega who could consume soft serve without consequence and that Omega is ME!"
The brain freeze hits approximately four seconds after my proclamation.
It slams into my temples with the force of a freight train, a sharp, stabbing cold that radiates from the roof of my mouth straight into the center of my skull. My triumphant expression crumbles. My hands fly to my head, pressing against my temples as if I can physically hold my brain together while it attempts to split in half.
"AH!" I shriek, stomping my foot on the pavement. "You CURSED me! What in the manifestations! You literally spoke this into existence!"
Etienne chuckles.
The sound is low and warm, spilling from his chest with an ease that tells me he has been holding it in, and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs sends a wave of warmth through my frozen suffering that almost makes the brain freeze worth it. Almost.
"I did not curse you," he says, shaking his head with the fond exasperation of a man who has accepted that the girl he is ona date with is clinically unhinged. "That was cause and effect. Basic thermodynamics. You shoved a frozen object into your warm mouth and your body responded accordingly. I merely predicted the outcome."
"You MANIFESTED it!" I insist, pressing harder against my temples. "You put the energy into the universe and the universe delivered! That is how manifestation works, Etienne! Your negative ice cream energy disrupted my positive ice cream energy and now I am paying the price!"
"That is not how any form of science or spirituality works."
"It is how MY science works. My personal science. Which is valid."
He laughs again, fuller this time, the kind of genuine amusement that transforms his entire face from guarded and handsome to open and breathtaking. He reaches over, gently pulling one of my hands away from my temple and replacing it with his own, his palm broad and warm against the side of my head.
