And that sets us back on track. “Oh my god. You should see him.”
Heidi interrupts, “Where’s he been?”
I do an epic eye roll before getting all comfortable and ready to tell them everything. “Yeah, well you’re not going to believe this… King’s been keeping secrets from me.”
“Holy fuck! Are you serious?” they shout over the top of each other before they start laughing hysterically.
“Well, it seems Puck is, shit I don’t know, but he’s currently wearing standard Fallen denim slim jeans and a white t-shirt that looks painted on his goddamn fucking body. He’s got muscles on muscles, and trust me, I know how big he is because I’m drowning in his damn hoodie.”
“And?” Heidi asks, all dramatically too.
“It’s lucky I’m wearing leather pants, or I would have puddled like a tube of leaking toothpaste. No shit. His smell… yeah well, you know rain…”
There’s a beat of silence before I hear a collective gasp.
“Don’t fucking say it, Raney,” Sim screams over the top of me.
“Like imagine sitting outside on a deck, overlooking a…”
“Raney, I mean it….” She yells again trying to shut me up, but I keep talking over the top of her.
“Lake and watching a thunderstorm come over the horizon and it opens up and covers you. Petrichor.”
“NO!” Sim screams.
We’ve got a list of ultimate alpha scents and falling rain is one of my top four. Weird, huh.
“Petrichor, baby. Colt smells like rain falling from the sky. Rain that saturates a field of wildflowers. His scent is everywhere too. It rises and falls like the individual bounding drops of rain. I can close my eyes and taste those little droplets on my tongue.”
“Even now?” She asks seriously once I stop rambling.
“Yeah, it’s fucking weird.”
Tris does her weird squawking laugh, “No, you dumb bitch! You just said you were wearing his hoodie. You know the one he’s been sweating and living in. His scent is ingrained in every fibre and now your little omega nose is going full fucking Dyson hoover mode. Sucking all those scents up and feeding your greedy omega knot-trap, and we know how fucking needy you are. I seriously hope Koz looked after you…”
“Yeah, trust me, he did. In the plane over there. Oh, far fucking out, I forgot to tell you…”
“No, Raney, remember you already told us about the bimbo in the bikini. We got you. Your man is all yours, as if he would ever leave you. What’s happening now?” Tris asks calmly, trying to steer us back to sensible.
I risk a look out the side of Colt’s hoodie, and Hayes’s eyes are on me. My lungs contract sharply and a little whine falls past my open lips.
Heidi gasps again, “Babe… double dose on the suppressors, I can hear you panting from here. Shut your fucking mouth, cross your legs. And wait up, I just got an email. You’ll have your heat pack delivered within four, maybe five hours.”
I keep watching him, whispering harshly, urgently to the girls. “Google how many tabs I can have. I just had a handful or two, maybe eight…”
Sim cracks up laughing. “You dickhead. Only you could walk straight into scorned pussy haven territory. Don’t you crumble. They did you dirty.”
“I’m thinking I can forgive as long as they can fuc…”
I stop mid-word when the driver’s door opens and Colt climbs in, “Raney, let’s get going. Do you want to sit up here with me?”
There’s quiet in my ear. Well, that’s a lie, my pulse is like a bass beat of a rave party in Berlin—hardcore techno beats too.
“Girl, was that Colt?” Simona whispers, breaking the weird pause in our phone call.
I cup my hand around the speaker on my phone. “Yeah.”
“Babe, that is not a boy,” Tris says way too loudly.
