Absolutely no one really cares about this stuff, but I can’t stop talking. If my skin complexion could show the red I feel beating my face, I would probably wish for the ground to swallow me whole.
As the humidifiers start working, his white chocolate scent fades, and I start to get nervous without his scent surrounding me. How ironic.
“So, um,” I say, smoothing my sweaty hands down my skirt. I need to wash them before touching anythingelse. Maybe get my gloves out so I don’t ruin the blankets any further. “I’ll let you look around.”
“Thank you,” the alpha says, nodding once before going towards the orange blankets in the middle of the room.
I rush to the back, trying to sound like I’m taking calm, collected steps, but I need to get out of sight for a moment.
Massaging my neck with my hands, my long nails pinching me, I sigh in frustration. Sliding the gloves on, large enough to accommodate my nails, I go back to the front counter.
He comes up to the counter—a light orange crochet blanket in his hands. I smile, despite my nerves at seeing him; he is still quite a sight. I’ll miss him when he’s gone. I’m already missing him, and he hasn’t even left yet.
“Is this all?” I ask, scanning the tag. This is one of my most expensive blankets because of the crocheted texture and the yarn, which is 40% cotton and 60% bamboo. Plus, it’s our biggest size at 90 inches by 90 inches, which is a queen-size blanket.
“It’ll be $275 today.”All that for one blanket?My mother’s voice rings in my ear at nearly every purchase. Now, if it were a designer blanket, she’d drop over $275 on it, but because I made this blanket, it’s too expensive.
“That’s it?” he asks, raising one eyebrow.That’s it?... What does he mean,that’s it?My eyes are wide as I lookat him, trying and failing to read my customer. Is it too much? Not enough? Oh, he must be looking for tax.
“I include taxes and whatnot in the price; what you see is what you pay.”
He hums, nodding his head, pulling out a card, and following the prompter. I pack his blanket in my pink signature baggie, along with the wash instructions and goodies that go with it.
“Have a great one!” I say as I push the bag towards him. This is the first time I've gotten a hint of a smile as he takes out the detergent and softener pods.
“I won’t be needing those.” He murmurs. My eyebrows scrunch. I know the crochet ones have a lasting smell of me on them. It’s hard to get out with one wash, but he turns around before I can explain this to him.
I watch the sexy man go with the big pink bag in his hand, and he nearly makes it out the door.
“Wait,” I call. Slipping my gloves off, Ollie’s conversation last night runs through my head. Not letting the opportunity slip past me. Once in a lifetime. My secret wishes. Everything.
Plus, it never hurts to ask, right?
“Will you, will you go out on a date? With me?” My hands are shaking. I should have asked the last two amazing-smelling gods that came by, but that’s okay. I missed my chance with them, and I won’t miss again.
He blushes. This sexy, 6’4” giant blushes. He tilts hishead down, and I can’t tell if this is a good blush or a bad blush. Good means he’ll say yes, and bad means a rejection is coming.
Maybe it’s good I asked him, since the cherry-smelling god works at the arena, and if I asked him out, and he said no, I’d still have to see him, most likely.
I wait with bated breath. Watching as he comes back to the counter.
“You want to go on a datewith me?” He asks, and my world stops spinning for a bit. Like a music track being interrupted, I can hear the scratch.
“Yes, I do.” Is this man playing hard to get? I’m not sure. I can’t tell if he’s just shy. “I’m Noa.”
“Havoc.”
“Is that real your name? Or a nickname?” I ask, leaning on the counter. My legs are too shaky, and I’m highly aware he hasn’t answered my question yet.
“Real name.”
“That’s hot.” I slip, my face absolutely on fire right now.
“You think?” He asks, and I nod. I bit the inside of my cheek trying to fight back the tension in my throat.
“Will you go out on a datewith me?” He asks, with the tiniest smile on his lips. Yet his whole face lights up, his brown eyes brighter as he looks at me. He leans against the counter, and even leaning, he’s still taller than me. Even with the scent blockers wafting into the room, being this close to him, I smell hiswhite chocolate scent, and my body reacts, calming down.
“I asked first, big guy.”
