The Light in Us

12. Fallon

12

Fallon

I can barely breathe because of the delicious scent swimming in my nose.

Rich, melting chocolate. It suits the omega in front of me, because he’s flawless .

His skin shimmers like molten gold, his eyes a deep shade of whiskey that I could drown in as he leans across the table, fury flashing across his face. He rakes one hand back through thick, almost bronze curls that spring back into place, one curling over his eye that he shoves back impatiently.

Who made you feel like that?

His words are like a shock of ice-cold water. I shouldn’t have said anything. Should have just kept my mouth shut and enjoyed this time with him. I’ve never met anyone like Teddy before, even if he makes me feel like a limp rag in comparison to his perfection.

“Fallon.” He reaches for my hand, squeezes it. The furrow between his eyes deepens. “Are you okay?”

And he sees too much.

Forcing a smile, I reluctantly pull my hand free, away from his warmth. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I should get going, though.”

“Wait.” He stands with me, grabbing his coat as I turn to leave. “I’m sorry. I don’t really have an off switch. My pack is always telling me I’m a nosy little shit.”

There’s nothing but fondness in his tone. Adoration, and a hint of sheepishness.

My eyes suddenly feel damp, and I don’t know why.

Except I do.

An omega I’ve never met before asked me if I was okay, and he meant it.

An omega who is now chasing me out of the café as I snag my copy of The Light in Us and almost run for the exit. I turn to him on the street, wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the cold. “I need to get going. Thank you so much for the coffee.”

But Teddy is shrugging out of his coat, wrapping it around me. It settles around my shoulders, heavy warmth laced with that delicious chocolate scent. And marshmallows . “Take this. It’s too cold not to have a coat.”

“What?” I protest, my throat tightening. “I can’t take your coat!”

“Sure you can.” His fingers are already doing up the buttons, brisk and efficient as my head swims from the heady combination of our scents. “You can give it back to me tomorrow, at your job interview. Or keep it.”

“I – wait. What ?”

But he’s digging into the pocket of his suit trousers, nudging a business card into my hands. Thick, black card with beautiful calligraphy spells out his name.

Teddy QuillCEOInk & Quill Publishers Inc.

Teddy’s cheeks flush too as he closes my fingers over it. But he keeps hold of my hands. “I have an opening. For an assistant. No experience needed, just a good work ethic. We’re interviewing tomorrow.”

I blink. “I – I can’t.”

And even saying the words hurts. Teddy’s brow knots. “Why not? You want a job, and we’re hiring. Plenty of books at Ink and Quill. I promise I’m not that bad to work with.”

I’m shaking my head. “It wouldn’t work. I need certain hours. To work around – appointments. And—,”

“Done,” he says promptly. “We’re a flexible employer, Fallon. We can make it work. Part-time, or job share.”

I fall silent, staring down at the card as my fingers rub over the gold.

Ink & Quill.

A publishing company. Like Wordsmith.

I look up at Teddy. We’re pressed together, close enough that anyone watching might see another scene entirely. His nose is slightly pink from the cold, flecks of gold visible in his eyes.

His smile is crooked, and all the more devastating for it. It softens into something more understanding as we stare at each other.

“I’m not a violent omega,” he says finally. “But I would very much like to hurt whoever it was that made you feel that you are anything less than perfect, Fallon.”

My breathing stutters. But Teddy takes a step back, slipping his hands into his pockets as he backs away. His cheeks are flushed with gold, as if he’s a little embarrassed.

“Tomorrow,” he calls to me, nodding down at my hands. “Come anytime before six, and ask for me at Reception. Please come.”

Sometimes the world offers us chances in ways we never expected.

I breathe in his scent, this omega with the perfect features and kinder heart… and I nod.

Teddy grins at me, as if we’re conspiring. An answering smile tugs at my own lips.

And then he’s gone, swallowed up by the busy street.

And I’m left alone again. But this time, I’m surrounded by a warm coat that smells like chocolate and marshmallows, with my battered copy of The Light in Us in one hand and Teddy’s card in the other.

Not feeling quite so alone as I did this morning.