Page 5
“I may have underestimated the audience participation.”
Scarlet strokes her thumb over my knuckles. “You can go home. We’ll keep everyone busy.”
Junie grins toward the growing cluster of hopeful faces. “With great sacrifice.”
Another alpha steps closer. “Can I carry your bag?”
A beta behind him offers, “Can I carry you home?” His ears turn red. “I meant if your feet hurt.”
The crowd laughs again, kindly this time, but every eye remains on me. The attention presses against my skin.
My body registers each scent separately. Leather. Pine. Pepper. Rain. Sugar. Too many voices arrive at once, each asking my name, whether I’m local, whether I have plans tonight, whether I would like a drink, a walk, a dance, a guided tour of a town where I have lived my entire life.
Warmth rolls low through my belly. The new ache makes my breath catch.
Honey notices. Her excitement softens into concern. “Go home, sweetheart.”
Scarlet nods toward the service corridor. “The back door is clear.”
Wes and Roman move casually into the crowd, redirecting questions and blocking the most enthusiastic admirers without turning the room into a security operation.
Junie presses my water bottle into my hand. “Text when you’re inside.”
Honey kisses my cheek. “I’m so excited for you. You’re allowed to enjoy it.”
“I plan to. From a room with one person in it.”
“Good choice. You’ll get used to it, but it can be a lot at first.”
I slip through the service door with laughter and flirtation following me into the alley. Sunlight warms the brick walls. Jasmine climbs the florist’s rear fence, sweet beneath the peppermint pouring from my skin. I take a long drink of water, then head toward home.
My yellow bungalow sits across town, beyond the festival square and the line of restored cottages along Lover’s Lane. Usually the walk takes twelve minutes. Today, the first block takes three compliments.
A man carrying kettle corn smiles as I pass. “That scarf matches your eyes.”
“It’s orange.”
He studies me. “You smell so good, I panicked.”
I laugh and keep moving.
Outside the pharmacy, a beta holds open the door from six feet away. “Would you like to go inside?”
“No, thank you.”
“Wonderful. I can open it if you change your mind.”
A woman behind him clears her throat. He releases the door and apologizes.
The encounters are harmless. Some are sweet. Most are ridiculous. There are also too many. Every person who turns adds another thread of attention. My scent announces me before I reach each corner. Conversations pause. Eyes follow. Smiles arrive from strangers who would have passed me yesterday without a second glance.
Near the fountain parking lot, an alpha jogs half a block to catch up.
“Hi. Sorry. Hi again.” He points at my water bottle. “I also enjoy hiking and nature. And hydration.”
“Congratulations.”
“Would you like to hydrate together?” The question is so earnest that I almost laugh.
