5. Leo

Steve Hansen. That's the name of my match. According to Terry, he's close to his family and has a tight-knit circle of friends he's known since high school. He works in the family business. Something to do with taxes or accounting. Terry went over so much information about Steve, it's hard to remember it all.

I mostly remember the things that made my stomach twinge with hope. Steve wants a husband and kids someday. He likes black and white films. One of his best friends is famous, and he's never said a word about him to the media.

He sounds perfect. I've been reminding myself all morning that there must be a catch. It's not like he'd tell the Perfect Match Agency about his flaws. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to meet him today. Nervous and a little terrified too, but still excited.

My house is bursting at the seams with a full film crew. Lights, boom mikes, and multiple cameras clog up my front room while a guy in a holey T-shirt and ratty pair of jeans yells at all the people rushing around. His name is Luke, and he introduced himself to me as "the director."

The director of what, exactly? I agreed to be filmed when I met Steve for the first time, but I didn't think my house would end up feeling like the set of a film.

"You'll stand here," Luke says, pointing to a spot in my living room that's a full three feet from the front door. "When you see him for the first time, I need to see a tiny swoon. Not over the top, but we need to know you're into him. He's a nerdy type, so you'll have to sell it."

I bristle at his stage direction. Will Luke be directing Steve's reaction to me as well?

"He'll be shocked because you"re Leo Sanders, so we'll give him a second, then I need a hug or a kiss, okay?"

I stop. "Wait. He'll be shocked I'm Leo Sanders? The agency promised me he'd be told my name."

The director waves my concern away. "That's the way they wanted to do it, but we only told Steve that he was matched with a celebrity. The drama will be better this way, trust me."

Luke kept my name from Steve? That means he doesn't know that he's been set up with an omega who was recently photographed having sex with multiple alphas at the same time. It's one thing to have a famous friend, but I don't think most accountants who work for their family's business would want to be with someone like me. And now Luke is going to film Steve's disappointment—or possibly disgust—for the whole world to see.

This is a disaster.

"You need to tell Steve my name before he meets me," I say.

"That will ruin all the fun. He's almost here. Places everyone!" Luke ambles away from me, clearly unconcerned that I'm upset. If I don't stop him, I could end up in another embarrassing scandal.

So much for trying to save my acting career.

I pull out my phone and find one of the emails from the agency. Terry listed his phone number at the bottom. I dial it, my fingers trembling.

It takes Terry a few rings before he answers.

"Hello, Leo. It's good to hear from you. How is everything going with your match?"

"I'm about to meet him, actually. But I just found out that no one told him my name, and now the film crew wants to get his reaction to my identity on camera."

Terry curses under his breath. "I apologize. Luke assured me that Steve would be informed of your name and basic information prior to your first meeting. But clearly, I should have overseen the situation more closely. I'll call him and get this sorted out."

"Thank you," I say.

"Of course. I'll also have my secretary call Steve. Hopefully we can reach him before he arrives. Again, I'm so sorry this happened."

The line goes dead.

Relief courses through me. At least I was able to put on the brakes before this situation got out of control. But a small part of me is disappointed. Just a few minutes ago, I thought Steve knew my name and still wanted to meet me. That wasn't true. He might change his mind when he finds out who I am.

A phone rings nearby. Luke answers it. "Hello… I'm in the middle of something, Terry… Yeah, well you were wrong… I'm not going to stop shooting now… No, absolutely not."

Knock, knock, knock.

That must be Steve. Terry's secretary hasn't had time to call him yet.

A member of the film crew reaches for the handle of the door. I run toward him, stopping him just in time. I still open the door, but when I do, I rush outside and close it again, blocking their view of us.

A tall, gangly alpha with pale skin and dark hair stands on my porch. His shoulders are a little hunched and his eyebrows are unruly. He's so different than the movie star alphas I work with who are paranoid about their appearance. I like him immediately.

I guess that's the point of all those compatibility tests. But I wasn't expecting to be this affected by him. I want to stare into his big hazel eyes or bury my nose in the crook of his neck or thread his long, bony fingers through mine. I feel so drawn to him, I almost forget where we are.

"Are you Leo Sanders?" he asks.

"Yeah."

My heart is stuck in my throat as I wait for his reaction. I wish I didn't care what he thinks of me, but I do. I long for him to want me, even if that want is only physical.

He drags his hand through his hair. "Wow. I wasn't expecting… I mean, they made me sign an NDA, but I didn't think… wow."

His eyes lock with mine and for a moment it seems like he's as drawn in by me as I am by him. I almost reach out and touch him, but I'm still not sure. Maybe it will take a moment for his mind to remember all the horrible things he's read about me online.

"I'm just an accountant," he says. "I'm sure you don't want… I think they made a mistake."

Is he saying that because he's worried I don't want him or because he doesn't want me? Maybe he's just trying to be polite.

"You don't have to go through with this if you don"t want to. I would understand."

"Oh, I want you. I'm just a little nervous." He ducks his head bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink. He reminds me of the alphas I dated in high school before my appearance transformed from an awkward drama geek to something Greg could sell to movie producers.

Someone tries to open the front door, but I hold it shut.

"There's a whole camera crew in there wanting to film us," I explain, when his attention turns to the moving doorknob. "Would it be okay if we got away from here? Just you and me?"

His lips spread into a lopsided smile that's devastatingly handsome. Steve may be a nerd with unkempt eyebrows, but he's still hot. My stomach fills with butterflies. It's like I'm a teenager all over again.

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

I hold out my hand to him. His scent rushes at me the moment our fingers touch. It's like the essence of sex mixed with soap and man. I want to close my eyes and inhale deeply through my nose.

I turn around and run down the steps, pulling him behind me. He trips over a crack in the sidewalk and almost falls down, but he keeps on running. He has the awkward gait of a man who's never been taught to run properly, which makes him feel more real than anyone I've met in a long time.

His hand shakes all over the place when he pulls out his keys to open the old green sedan parked in my driveway. I repress a smile.

"Here, allow me." I hold out my other hand. He gives me his keys without thinking, and I slide the biggest one into his car door.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"I don't know."

Running off with him like this is crazy. I must be violating my contracts with both Greg and the Perfect Match Agency. But I climb into the passenger seat of his car anyway.

"Just drive," I say.

He turns on the engine and peels out of my driveway, his tires screeching on the asphalt. Then he veers right, driving further into the gated community where I live, instead of toward the exit.

"I'm going the wrong way, aren't I?" he asks.

"Yep."

"I have to turn around and drive past your house again, don't I?"

I wince. "Uh huh."

He does a harsh U-turn, lurching us wildly around the cabin because we haven't had the chance to put on seatbelts yet. He guns the engine, speeding past Luke and his film crew spilling out my front door. Luke screams at me to come back at the top of his lungs, waving his arms wildly. Steve doesn't even pause.

"My friends call that a FGMT," Steve says. "Fully grown man tantrum."

I throw back my head and laugh.