I jump with a gasp at the male voice behind me and whir around, a hand clutching my chest. My gaze collides with amused brown eyes—though brown doesn’t quite cover it. They’re the shade of worn leather, soft and supple, with the depth of dark earth or rich burnt mahogany.
The tall, muscular man, who screams Alpha even without scenting him, grins at me. His stance is casual with his hands in the pockets of his jeans like he didn’t just scare the absolute crap out of me. I observe him further, his black hair that tapers to the base of his neck, his light amber skin tone and playful aura. When my brain computes this is Mateo Quinn, I inhale through my nose without thinking. I scrunch it again from the sterile smell that makes my nose tingle and my eyes sting once more.
“Easy conejita, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I’m not fluent in Spanish, but I understand enough—thanks to living in L.A. since I was eighteen and killing time on set with one of those language apps—to know he just called me little rabbit. Makes sense given my sky-high jump and current look on my face.
Gods, I’m already making a great first impression. Freaking neutralizing spray. I’m going to have to get better about breathing slowly and through my mouth when I can help it. Though that won’t be possible while filming. All I can hope is I get used to the smell and slight burn soon.
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “I thought you were already on set and didn’t know someone was behind me.”
Mateo holds up a coffee in a paper cup. “Getting a bit of go-go juice before we get started.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing and he smiles, showing off a bit of his straight white teeth. My stomach flips and despite the horrid smell in my nose I’m glad I can’t scent him. He’s even bigger and sexier than his pictures make him out to be and I don’t need any reason for my Omega to get riled up when I just calmed her down.
He closes his lips, mouth still tilted in a sly grin that makes my breath hitch in my chest. I should say something, anything, but no words come. It’s annoying since I’m usually good with people and light conversation. I’ve had to be as an actor, not to mention all my media training I’ve had helps too. But for some reason, looking into his mahogany eyes, I’m entranced. My stomach flips faster when his gaze flicks down my body, and he runs his tongue over his teeth like he likes what he sees.
Ditto, Alpha.
Alpha…
The pressure of a whine builds in my throat and I’m so shocked by the sudden appearance of my Omega I nearly choke. I quickly put my hand over my mouth and cover it up with a cough while I internally try not to panic at that little mishap.
“Are you okay?” Mateo asks worriedly.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I cough a few more times. There should be absolutely no reason to have that kind of reaction to him.
I cough again and meet his concerned gaze. I force a smile on my face and shake my head. “Sorry. Tickle in my throat.”
He raises a brow and offers his cup of coffee to me in a sweet gesture.
“It’s alright.” I swallow. “I don’t drink caffeine.”
“Ah, right. Sorry, my mate is always asking for coffee. I forget that Omega’s don’t drink it unless it’s decaf.”
My brain short circuits hearing him say mate and Omega in the same sentence and for a moment a spark of jealousy slips through from my inner demon—yes, demon. She deserves to be called that with the way she’s acting today.
I quietly remind her that I knew this information. It’s widely known around town that Mateo and August are together. The Alpha’s claiming mark is on the Beta’s neck for everyone to see, and I’ve read the interviews about how they met and soon after found Jett and Wilder to form their pack. It’s not unusual for packs to take on a Beta and for them to be bonded into the pack, but it’s rarer for an Alpha to be mated to a Beta. It likely means their scent sympathetic and feel connected in a similar way an Alpha would to an Omega—like their souls are better together than apart.
However, all of that doesn’t mean the pack isn’t looking for an Omega. As far as I know August isn’t mated to Jett and Wilder, only pack bonded, and they’re open to the idea of having an Omega if the right one comes along. Or at least, that’s what all the entertainment sources have said when they talk about the Quinn pack, specifically Jett. Not that it matters. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this.
But he’s—
“I’m Iris by the way,” I cut off my Omega. If she refuses to stay down then I’m going to have to learn to ignore her just like the sterile smell in my nose. Hopefully this will distract him too from that awkward coughing situation and whatever the hell is going on in my body.
Mateo’s brow unfurrows and amusement returns into his eyes. He holds out his hand and like an idiot I take it. His warm fingers wrap around my hand, dwarfing it. That’s a feat in itself; since I’m tall I don’t have dainty hands like a lot of Omegas, or even Betas. Yet his…his hand takes over mine like a flame engulfing tinder, setting me ablaze.
“I know who you are, conejita.”
My nose scrunches automatically at the nickname and he squeezes my hand as he shakes it. When I don’t answer he continues, “I’m Mateo, but you already knew that, too.”
I nod, dumbly, heat licking up my arm and threatening to boil me alive. I pull my hand back abruptly when my throattightens on another freaking whine, and put it behind my back with the other one, holding them together so I don’t do something dumb like reach out and pull his delicious body against me.
“Yes,” I fumble out. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
We stand in front of the fake set door, our bodies probably too close for people who just met. We may no longer be touching, but I still feel as if I’m on fire, heat and flame crackling between us. It’s unlike anything I've ever felt before, and the fact it’s happening without us even being able to scent each other is very concerning.
