"Do you think he still has feelings for you?" she asks, not turning around. Her breath fogs the glass. "Like, possessive pack-related feelings?"
"No way." The words come out fast and certain. I stop pacing and face her back, even though she can't see me. "Ben and Iwere incompatible. I see that so clearly now that I'm amazed I didn't see it when we were actually dating. The man criticized everything I did. He made me feel small and like crap, all the time."
But Cassian, Jett, and Pine? They actually see me. They see Sharon, the person, not just Sharon the omega.
Jessica turns from the window, wrapping her arms around herself. She's wearing a sweater that's probably three times the size it should be, and it's somehow making her look even more curvy and soft than usual. The sweater is bright pink, like someone decided that if they were going to be cold, they might as well be aggressively cheerful about it.
"So, you're really into this pack thing," she observes, moving back toward her desk but not sitting down. Instead, she leans against the edge, one hip propped on the corner. There's something in her voice that sounds like longing or maybe just curiosity. "Like, you're seriously considering bonding with three alphas and building a life together."
"I'm thinking about it," I admit, feeling warmth creep into my cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature. "I mean, it's complicated. We haven't bonded or anything. Hell, we haven't even really defined what we are to each other. But there's something there. Something real."
I pause at the window where Jessica was standing moments ago, looking out at the town below. Somewhere out there, Pine is probably at his tattoo shop. Jett's maybe at the gun range or meeting with clients. Cassian could be anywhere, doing whatever firefighters do when they're not actively saving people from burning buildings.
"They make me feel safe in a way I've never felt before," I continue, turning back to face her. "They see me as someone worth protecting, worth caring about. Not just an omega to possess, but a person they actually like. A person they think isfunny and smart and capable, even when I'm having a complete meltdown about whether ivory or cream is the right choice for table linens."
Jessica's expression softens, and she finally moves away from the desk to grab her own coffee cup. She takes a sip, makes a face at the temperature, and sets it back down.
"That's huge," she says quietly, moving to the small couch in the corner of the office. She sits down and tucks her feet under her. "I mean, three alphas?"
I abandon the window and join her on the couch, curling up on the opposite end. My knees pull up to my chest automatically, trying to conserve body heat. The fabric swatches are still scattered on the floor by my desk, forgotten and irrelevant.
"I don't know if I'm ready," I confess, the honesty coming easier than I expected. "But I know I want to find out. When I'm with them, I don't feel like I have to be smaller or quieter or more convenient. I can just be myself, anxiety and all."
Jessica pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over both of us. It's not much, but it's something. We're huddled together like pioneers trying to survive a blizzard, except instead of dying of exposure, we're just really uncomfortable and mildly concerned about frostbite.
"And I know that if I don't at least try," I continue, my voice getting quieter, "I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been. Wondering if I missed out on something amazing because I was too scared to take the risk."
"But you're still working," Jessica points out carefully, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "You're still here with me, planning weddings. That's not going to change, right? "
The concern in her voice makes something in my chest tighten. Jessica is my friend, not just my colleague. She's the person who's been here through all of this chaos, who's helped me plan this impossible wedding, who's sat with me in freezingoffices and listened to me spiral about my ex-boyfriend's fraud schemes.
I reach over and squeeze her hand, which is ice cold even under the blanket.
"I'm not disappearing," I assure her, putting as much certainty as I can into the words. "Jessica, I'm still doing everything I promised to do. Whatever happens with Cassian, Jett, and Pine, I'm not abandoning my life or my career. I'm just maybe adding something good to it."
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, and she squeezes my hand back.
"Besides," I add with a small smile, "someone has to make sure you don't freeze to death in this office. And someone has to help you explain to brides why there are forty-seven different shades of white and why it matters which one they choose for their tablecloths."
Jessica laughs, the sound warm and genuine in the cold space. "It doesn't matter. But we charge them extra for the consultation anyway because if they want to stress about ivory versus cream, we might as well get paid for our suffering."
"That's the spirit," I say, grinning.
We sit there for a moment, wrapped in the inadequate blanket, breathing out visible clouds of air. The office is still absurdly cold. The heating system is still broken. We still have approximately forty-seven things to do before the wedding. But right now, in this moment, things feel okay.
"Good," Jessica says finally. "Because we have a wedding to plan, and apparently the universe decided that our heating system needed to take a vacation right now. In December. In Colorado."
As if on cue, she shivers dramatically, and her breath comes out in a visible white cloud that hangs in the air between us.
My teeth are starting to chatter despite my best efforts to stay still. My fingers are so numb I'm not sure I could hold a pen if I tried. My scent has probably turned into some kind of frozen strawberry and honey popsicle at this point, all the warm notes crystallized by the arctic temperature.
"You know what we need?" I say suddenly, throwing off the blanket and standing up. My legs protest the movement, stiff from the cold. I grab the edge of my desk to steady myself. "We need hot chocolate. And brownies. Definitely brownies. And maybe we'll figure out what to do about the heating situation while we're consuming massive amounts of chocolate and sugar."
Jessica's face lights up like I just suggested something brilliant instead of the obvious solution to our current state of misery.
"That's the best idea you've had all day," she says, already reaching for her purse from where it's hanging on the back of her chair. She's moving faster than I've seen her move all morning, motivated by the promise of warmth and chocolate. "I'm coming with you. I need to escape this arctic tundra before I become a human popsicle and you have to explain to my family that I died at my desk planning someone else's wedding."
We bundle up in our coats, which takes approximately five minutes because we're both wearing so many layers that getting the coats on feels like trying to dress a marshmallow. My coat is black and practical, the kind of thing you wear when you live in the mountains and need something that will actually keep you alive. Jessica's coat is cream-colored and probably cost more than my rent, but it looks warm and that's all that matters right now.
