Eye of the Beholder - Excerpt

Roy slumped back in his seat with a growl as the traffic continued to crawl. Irritation clawed at his thinning patience. Sweat collected over his brow and cheekbones despite the ac being on high. He glanced at the clock for the hundredth time and sighed. Stretched his back muscles in frustration. And contemplated pulling off the freeway for coffee. Maybe order some for the whole shop. He eyed Polanco road in the distance. Maybe take the back roads.

Hey, I’m stopping for coffee. You want something?

Whereat?

Sunfire.

Mocha latte… and a slice of lemon pound cake! (smiley face)

Sure.

Roy rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. Fucking Greg and his fast metabolism. If he’d eaten that kind of crap for breakfast he’d have to skip lunch and go for a five-mile run after work. His stomach gave off a wired pinching quiver as he joined the usual busy morning line. He frowned, rubbing at it. Maybe coffee wasn’t the best idea.

Should I get the others something?

If you want.

He leaned forward to get a better look at the menu and gasped, curling into the steering wheel as invisible knives sliced open his abdomen. Holly fuck! He hadn’t had cramps this bad since high school. His hands trembled as he texted Greg back, trying to distract himself from the pain.

What should I get the others?

He dug fingers into his abdomen, hoping the pressure would force the muscles to relax.

Just get them all the same.

K.

Wait…

Roy clenched his eyes shut, riding out another wave of cramps and waited for the buzz of his phone.

Chris and Tony are off today… and Herbal doesn’t like coffee, get her chi… And the Boss and Vega drink theirs black.

Of course they do.

“Welcome to Sunfire, how can I take your order?”

He ordered Greg’s request for diabetes. Two black coffees, Herbal’s tea, and added mint to Darcy’s mocha. As a thank you for taking care of one of the bitchiest customers Roy had ever met the other day.

The barista kept giving him weird looks as she passed him the drink carriers, and took his money. Roy frowned but didn’t take offense to it. Omegas were always pulling double takes around him. After getting a good whiff of his pheromones. For some reason, Roy suspected a conspiracy against alphas in general. The only legal scent blockers anywhere in the country only worked against alphas. Though, he supposed it did prevent the embarrassment of having to explain. He’d had enough snobbish omegas trying to boss him around to know they would have never believed him.

At the light before the stretch of road that led out to the shop, he caught sight of a bright yellow billboard. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel.

Rolexan was being recalled! What? But… But he’d been taking the shit for years. He didn’t have anything else. The light turned green and he hit the gas as a quiver of unease slither through his ribcage. His coworkers had all been pretty helpful the past few weeks. Even Vega had helped him get a set of tires down the other day. Fuck! Not to mention the cramps.

Roy ran a hand through his hair as he pulled into the parking lot. What the hell was he supposed to do? Now that he was concentrating on it, he could feel a building heat radiating from his core. His face, armpits, and chest were moist with sweat. He could smell each distinct alpha scent all the way out here. Vega’s dark musk, Darcy’s cinnamon chocolate spice, Herbal’s light smoke and sage. The Boss’s wood ash and rain.

He knew what it meant. He’d never experienced it before, but he knew the signs.

He was going into heat.

Had been going into heat for over a week. Roy whined, his head falling onto the steering wheel. What the fuck was he supposed to do!

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