Page 54 of Knot Only For One Night

But what the hell, Reed’s not the only scent match I need to see. I have scent matches that actually want to see me here, and I should see them. Neven could be here. So could Soren, or Asher.

I need to see them, especially the alphas. I’ve been prickly since I last saw them. My omega went into full destruction mode after that failed date at Juni’s. She couldn’t stomach seeing anyone.

I need to apologize. Make it right. They didn’t deserve that.

Nodding my head, I take out my scent-blocking spray, spritzing myself as I walk across the parking lot and to Midnight Wolves’ bar. My stomach turns at the smell of it, but sucks to suck I guess. I’m not walking into a bar full of people smelling like a burnt cranberry pie.

The Bar’s sign is large above the center building, and there are many slightly smaller buildings around it, including my true love, Coal’s Diner, on the far left. To the far right looks to be a mini neighborhood.

Between the Diner and the neighborhood sit plenty of businesses. There is The Garage, where Soren said he works, a tattoo parlor with a dispensary on top. Some other businesses I can’t tell what they are.

Making my decision, I walk up to the door and swing the handle toward me, the air conditioning from inside blows my hair over my shoulder as the darkness of the club swallows me.

Darkness broken with red lighting. Everywhere. If something is not red then it’s wood. Booths line the walls, and a dance floor right when you walk in leads to the prominent bar in the back. Off to the side there are little round tables that are tall enough to stand at. Overall, the Bar seems to have a spot for everyone.

Hiking my little purse on my shoulder, I gaze around the bar. Where do I even go? I’ve never been to a bar without Penny.

She always goes to the bar for a drink first. Nodding to myself, I beeline to the bar. The Bar that is open and serving at—what is it? Two in the afternoon. Gosh, that’s a bit early in the day.

Regardless, I slide onto one of the stools and look over the menu they have at the top above the drinks. How does someone even reach that?

“How can I help you, darlin’?” The bartender leans over the bar and smiles. She looks to be around my age with curly pastel rainbow hair and a kind smile. Not the kind of person you’d stereotypically see at an MC bar. Her badge reads Jewels, and she’s wearing an apron with a light blue sundress underneath it. Her smell is on full display despite being in a somewhat busy bar. Her raspberry scent calms me, but there’s a note to it. My head shoots up and she smiles.

She’s an omega.

So me being an omega… has nothing to do with Reed’s rejection? I can’t tell if that makes me feel better or not. Omegas here have jobs, not the traditional omega lifestyle, so I’m even more confused why he was so opposed to being with me.

“Um, do you have Coke?” My voice wobbles, embarrassingly. My tears clog my throat and I pray she can’t tell. But by the way her eyebrows scrunch, I know she can.

Maybe my scent-blocking spray isn’t as strong as I thought?

“Want any alcohol in it?”

I’d love to get that with alcohol, please and thank you, but that probably wouldn’t be wise. It’ll only go one of two ways: it’ll either calm me down or turn me hysterical. I still have apologies to give on my visit here.

I shake my head no, and Jewels turns to get my boring non-alcoholic Coke. My face flames. Thankfully I think the lighting in here is too red for anyone to notice. I take the drink she slides to me and sip as I turn around in my bar stool.

I don’t spot any of my scent matches. I don’t smell them either, but that’s not surprising with what smells like hundreds of scents in the bar.

Looking up toward the ceiling to help hold my tears back, I spot air purifiers, but they don’t seem to be on.

“We only use them for the weekend,” Jewels says, nodding her head towards the devices. “What brings you to Midnight’s?"

“A drink?” Shyness overtakes me with this beautiful woman talking to me.

“A drink you didn’t get?” She laughs, her loose textured curls bouncing around her head.

“Hey, I’m drinking it, aren’t I?” I reply before taking a sip.

Jewels grins and holds up her hands in defeat. Then she asks, “Who are you here for, maybe I know them?” Her voice is so light yet strong. Laced with a joy I wish I could steal some of.

“Dear god, I hope it’s for me,” an unfamiliar voice says from behind me. I turn to look, but not fast enough to miss Jewels’ eyeroll.

The man is tall, with brown hair that’s faded on the sides. He has blue eyes and tanned skin and one giant tattoo of a snake on the side of his neck.

Yeah, no thanks.

My awkward laugh would be an adequate dismissal to some people, and my turning back towards the bar a less subtle one. Discreetly as I can, I sniff myself to see if folks can really smell me or if I’m just incredibly readable.