Page 15 of Packing for Vacation

“It’s all good, Baz,” I tell him. I squint at my phone screen in the dark, swearing again when I see Matiu on the display.

“It's five in the fucking morning on a Saturday,” I answer flatly.

“Yeah, well, maybe I wouldn't be calling at this time if you'd answered my messages last night.”

Barry’s ears prick up at Matiu’s voice. Traitor I mouth silently to him.

“It’s less than three weeks before Christmas,” I say to Matiu, letting him hear how irritated I am at being woken. “I’m not working on a Friday night. It’s not my fault if all you want to do is burn yourself out. Some of us have lives. If you need something, it can wait.” Until next year. I’m officially on leave from today, and I’ll be more than happy to make Matiu wait for anything he needs from me.

“And some of us have scent matches. I have yours here in my bed, which you would know if you'd listened to my messages.”

I’m already mad at him, but blatantly hitting my sore spot just takes the cake. I hang up, tossing my phone on the bed.

Barry tilts his head as if to say I’m confused by your strange reaction.

“Not everyone is a friend, mate. Don’t take his side. You’re my dog. You’ve only met him twice!”

He tilts his head to the other side, and then back again, his black ears flopping around and melting my bitter heart. If not friend, why friend shaped?

The phone rings again, interrupting my imaginary conversation with my border collie. I ignore it, or at least I try to. Barry jumps up, proving once again that he’s too smart for his own good as he grabs my phone in his mouth. He drops in on my chest, and when I still don’t touch it he paws at it himself, somehow managing to answer the damn thing.

“Scott, listen⁠—”

“That was a low blow, bringing up Elaine.”

“I’m not talking about Elaine. Will you fucking listen for once?”

I want to say No, I won’t! like a petulant child, but I know Matiu well enough to get a read on when he’s truly stressed about something. “I’m listening.”

“A Canadian woman showed up at work yesterday. Her name is Lizzie. She’s here on holiday for a month. I knew from the moment I scented her that she’s my scent match.”

“Okay, congrats. Look, I don't know if you understand how scent matches work, but just because you and I were both matched to someone before doesn't mean that we will have the same scent match in common again.”

“You said you would listen.”

“I have been.”

“You have fucking not. Listen to the words coming out of my mouth. She showed up at work because she had one of my business cards. She found it in the pocket of some man’s suit jacket that was left at Harbourside Hotel. Ring any bells?”

Holy shit. “She found my suit?” When I got back to Wellington after a couple of days working alongside the Auckland team I’d realised I’d misplaced it.

“She found it. She said the scent on the jacket is her scent match. So she came looking with the only clue she had. I don’t know why the fuck you had my business card, but… She’s my scent match. And based on what she says, she’s also yours.”

A scent match. A new scent match. “Is she certain?” I ask, hearing the words as if they’re coming from someone else. I’m having an out of body experience. I don’t even know how to feel. Shocked. Excited. Full of dread. Shit scared. Pissed off, because why the fuck is Matiu also scent matched to the same omega again?

“She’s certain. I’m doing you a favour by telling you about this,” Matiu continues. “I could have kept her all to myself, and you would never have known.”

I hate that he’s right, and that he’s so condescending about it. “Did you tell her you know me? Did you tell her you hate me? That we don’t…”

“I don’t hate you. And no, I didn’t tell her about our past. She knows you’re a colleague. She knows we went to uni together and have known each other since then. I thought it was too much too soon to bombard her with the fact that she’s not our first scent match. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Why? So we can get our story straight?” I sound too angry, too defensive. I can hear it in my voice but it’s like watching a train wreck that keeps going. Anything scent match related has been too triggering for me for a long time. Barry whines and nudges my hand, and I take a deep breath.

“So that we can agree not to antagonise each other in front of her,” Matiu is saying. “So that we don’t upset her. She’s…” I hear him sigh and mutter a string of words that sound a lot like swearing. “She’s off her heat suppressants and she’s likely going to have a heat while she’s here. She either works through her heat with her scent matches or she goes to a heat clinic and gets dicked down by whoever. I don’t want it to be a bunch of random alphas. I need it to be me. And therefore, I need it to be us.”

What the fuck? “Why would an omega travel without heat suppressants?”

“The airline lost her bag. She had them in carry-on, they got gate checked. She can’t get on a new brand ’til after a heat.”