And he’d never said anything, even after we talked about exes the other night?
I ordered my latte and stepped to the side as I waited for it to be ready. My chest was tight and I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I squeezed my hands into fists as I tried to keep my breathing even, but it felt hopeless—my omega was equally devastated and filled with rage.
The barista called out my name. My hands shook as I put a lid on my drink.
“Olive?”
I held in a frustrated scream. I didn’t want to talk to anyone now. All I wanted was to be home, in my nest, alone.
I turned around and saw Frida, Lars’s mom, sitting at a corner table. I slightly softened seeing her and forced a smile on my face.
“Hi.”
She looked around for a minute. “Are you here alone?”
I nodded. “The guys left earlier to get something for the restoration.I just wanted some coffee, but I do have to head back to the lighthouse to monitor the storm.”
There was a loud crack of thunder, and Frida’s brow furrowed. “How’re you getting home?”
“I have my bike.” I wasn’t looking forward to riding it back. It might be a better idea to walk it back. The path to the lighthouse was probably muddy.
“Absolutely not,” Frida said with a frown. “I’ll drive you.” She immediately started packing up her things—a laptop, a small notepad, and a pen.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. You should stay.”
“Nonsense. I’m done with my work, and it’s probably best for all of us to be home before this gets worse.”
I should have protested more, but the truth was I was too intimidated to argue with this alpha.
“That’s a nice rain jacket,” she said as we headed to the door, throwing out her empty coffee cup. “I always say there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing.”
A pang of longing went through me. Just then, Frida had sounded so much like my dad. I wished more than anything I lived in an alternate timeline where my parents could come with me to a family dinner at the Andersson-Spring house.
I pulled up my hood and braced myself for the cold wind and rain. Luckily, Frida was parked right in front of Beans ‘n Bliss. I opened the passenger side door and got in, but right before I closed it, Felix leapt inside. He was absolutely drenched.
“Oh my goodness,” I gasped, pulling the door shut. “Did you get caught in the storm?”
Felix meowed pitifully. I put my coffee in the drink holder and unzipped my jacket so he could crawl inside.
Frida shut the driver’s side door behind her and pulled down her drenched hood. “Felix, what on earth? I have never seen him act like that. He’s usually quite reserved.”
Reservedwas the absolute last word I would use to describe Felix. Diabolical mastermind, meddling matchmaker, and mystical otherworldly creature felt more accurate.
“He seems to like the lighthouse cottage, so we’ve spent a lot of time together.”
Frida pulled away from the curb and headed to the access road that allowed cars to drive up to the back of the lighthouse. “I don’t think it’s the cottage he loves. Lars said he’s been staying at your house pretty much since you moved in. Felix usually picks a new home every night to sleep in, so this is unusual behavior for him.”
The idea that Felix had specifically chosen to spend time with me made me tear up and hold him tighter.
I sent another text to my guys and stared at my phone screen, desperately wishing they would respond. My heart felt raw and exposed, like I was teetering on the edge of a gaping hole of loneliness and rejection. Why had they abandoned me? What if something happened to them? What if they were hurt?
I wouldn’t be able to handle it. They were mine.
Except for Lars, the traitor.
And then I burst into tears.
“Oh dear,” Frida said. “Olive, honey, are you okay?”
