Page 20 of Examining the Bond

“Don’t be. I’m relieved, honestly,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “What about you? Are you talking to anyone?”

I shake my head a little too quickly. “No.”

One of Lana’s dark brows raises like she doesn’t believe me, and I take another sip of wine, my eyes trailing around the room to keep from looking at her.

“Sky…”

I ignore her.

“Skylar.”

“Yes?”

She waits a long, awkward moment until I meet her gaze again. Her lips are pursed, her eyes full of judgement. There’s no point in lying to someone who can read you like a book.

“I’m not talking to anyone,” I say flatly.

“Fucking?”

“No.”Though the thought has crossed my mind more than once since this morning. “I literally just met her.”

“Ohhh,” Lana says, understanding flashing over her features. “Planning to fuck then…”

I glare at her, and she giggles. “She’s a patient; I can’t. I could lose my job.”

“So wait until she’s not a patient.”

“I can’t do that either.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s from Georgia,” I blurt out. “She’ll be gone the second she gets a diagnosis, and I’ll probably never see her again.”

“And you can’t fuck her because…”

Just then, our food arrives, and I’m distracted by the juicy steak that’s set in front of me. Lana drops the argument, assessing her burger, and we eat in silence for several minutes while the soft swing music playing overhead continues.

I’m the one who speaks first, even though I can tell Lana is teeming with more questions. “This omeg—womanis different, okay. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never felt anything like it.”

I dare a glance up at her, and she’s watching me, her curiosity replaced by something else.

“Could she be… your scent match?” she asks, thankfully dropping her voice.

My insides squirm at the question, followed by a warmth that spills through me. I’m blaming it on the wine, which I sip again while the question hangs between us.

“No,” I say finally.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure…”

“Isn’t that supposed to be easy to figure out?” She quirks a brow. “Like you either know or you don’t?”

“Yes,” I grit out, swallowing down an annoyed growl. “Remind me why I asked you to join me.”

“I’m just trying to help, Skylar. Okay, so she’s not your scent match, but love works in mysterious ways,” she argues, pointing a fork at me over the table.

My nose scrunches at the L word. “I’ve had like two conversations with her.”