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ARIA
Don’t perfume.
Don’t perfume.
Do not perfume.
I blink at the alpha standing before me, my mind racing at a thousand miles a second, then to the white van creeping over to us like they are about to toss me inside and race off. I saw that movie. The omega doesn’t survive, and I like to think I have some survival instincts, so I use the best one I have in my arsenal as I pop in another piece of candy.
This is what I get for letting my guard down, even for a moment. No good deed goes unpunished, especially when it involves charming alphas and their misplaced desire to help.
“I have a boyfriend.” I sure as hell don’t have a boyfriend. Too risky. You know, with the hormone problem and all, among other reasons. Arousal equals scents, and I’m not entirely sure the duct tape over my scent glands is going to ward them off. Granted, the only visible glands are my cheeks, and I just can’t get around taping those up. Too obvious.
Hell, the neck is questionable, but I wrapped a scarf around my neck so no one would notice, and they haven’t.
Malachi rolls his lips inside his mouth, and his smirk turns panty melting, almost as though he views my words as a challenge. Rude. They are anything but.
“A boyfriend?” Malachi’s voice is calm, yet there’s a subtle challenge. He looks up and down the street. “Shouldn’t he be the one helping you with your laundry?”
“Alpha Force.” I cross my arms, trying to look defiant. The Alpha Force is the only military branch full of alphas.
Someone in the van scoffs.
“Hey, beautiful.” Dash opens up the side door of the van, grinning widely.
“Where the heck is your shirt?” Eyes wide, I take a step back and away from them—four of them. Too much alpha. Oh my, I think my ovaries just decided that we need a heat because his abs are glistening, and that little trail…
Dash glances down at his bare chest, as if just realizing his state of undress. “Oh, this? Spilled coffee all over myself earlier. Hazards of multitasking while on a stakeout, you know?”
“Dammit, Dash!” a voice as cold as ice berates him, and then a shirt gets tossed at his head, but the damage is done.
Slick. Slick. Slick.
Panic makes me say stupid shit.
“I just peed myself.” Oh no. Aria. Why are you like this?
I didn’t pee myself, I slicked myself. It’s totally different, but hey, I was trying to figure out how to lose an alpha in ten minutes or less, and well, I’m pretty sure my word vomit just kicked that into gear. Now I can lose four all in one swift shot.
“You peed yourself?” Malachi repeats slowly as though he isn’t taking me seriously.
“Yep.” I reach for my basket, which he doesn’t hand over. “I’ll be taking that now so I can go change my panties.”
I’m in it now.
Dash laughs, and I nearly crack my neck when I turn my head to look at him. His laugh is a deep, rich sound that sends a shiver down my spine, despite my current state of mortification. The shirt he was handed is now draped casually over his shoulder, and he doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed about his state of undress.
“Relax, Aria,” Malachi says, his voice a soothing balm against my frazzled nerves. “We’re not here to harm you.”
“I’d believe that if you weren’t blocking my exit,” I snap back, trying to muster up some semblance of bravado. The slick between my thighs is a traitorous reminder of my body’s reaction to their overwhelming presence.
Dash’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he watches me, clearly entertained by my predicament. “You’re funny. I like you.”
“Great, add that to my resume,” I mutter, finally managing to tug the laundry basket from Malachi’s grip. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find a hole to crawl into.”
As I turn to leave, Malachi steps closer, his scent enveloping me in a heady mix of spice and sunlight. I want to bathe in it. “You don’t have to go,” he murmurs, his voice low and persuasive. “We just want to talk.”
I swallow hard, the primal part of me wanting nothing more than to lean into his warmth and let go of the constant vigilance and just…be. I can’t though. Not here. Not now.
