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Unfortunately, the rest of me isn’t much better off than my beater. Without another change of professional clothes, I was forced to recycle yesterday’s nude pumps and navy pencil skirt.
Remi rushed out before the crack of dawn, but I woke to find two pairs of fresh scent-and-slick-absorbing panties laid out on the coffee table for me. She also left her own bottle of de-scenter out, along with a few clean shirts.
My best friend is so much smaller than me; most of her shirts were at risk of popping open when I tried to close them over my chest. In the end, I had to settle for a light pink sleeveless blouse with a bow neckline. Definitely not my style at all, but at least it covers my ta-tas.
I doused myself in her neutralizing spray before and after dressing. Thankfully, whatever brand Remi uses is better than my usual stuff. My peach scent disappears without any chemical residue in its place.
Before stepping out of my car, I check to make sure the smell is still entirely absent. When I’m satisfied, I grab my purse and jaunt toward the office as confidently as I can manage.
There’s a man standing on the sidewalk outside the entrance, his head bowed over his phone. My eyes glide over him while I approach, admiring the tight fit of his black joggers and the onyx-and-orange Ospreys T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.
He’s tall and trim—an alpha, certainly, although maybe one in his mid-thirties. Not a professional athlete, but incredibly fit for a man of his age. A touch of silver graces his temples, peeking out from the edges of his solid black baseball cap. The smattering of salt-and-pepper in his dark hair and close-cropped facial hair is the only reason to suspect he isn’t in his late twenties.
As I approach, my focus shifts to the tattoo covering his left side. Bold curls of black ink swirl down his arm before spreading across the back of his hand. I gulp back a thick swallow and move to hold my breath, hoping the alpha won’t notice me slip past.
No such luck. He hears my heels scrape against the asphalt and snaps to attention.
Oh God.
It’s Ronan.
chapter
twelve
It’s possible I’ve gone fucking crazy.
Honestly? I wouldn’t be shocked.
After spending fifteen years conducting omega interviews all across the country, searching for the right person for our pack until I literally couldn’t take it anymore… Maybe I’ve cracked.
Did Arch ever study psychology in med school? I can’t remember. Hopefully he knows a guy or something. Because this woman in front of me? The one who smelled like peach napalm yesterday?
She is now completely scent-less.
Which is unacceptable, because I’m supposed to be figuring out what the hell is going on.
The mysterious blonde lifts her chin. Her blue eyes fly wide as she recognizes me. I bounce my gaze between them for a moment before sliding down her body.
Her missing scent may make it harder to identify her true designation, but it also leaves my mind free to notice every other detail. I can see the place where she clipped a loose thread from her skirt—the same one she had on yesterday. There’s the tiny scuff mark at the toe of her heel. She clearly tried to use the bow on her blouse to cover the way the buttons underneath gap across her breasts, but I see that too.
When I meet her wide eyes again, a spark of amusement settles along the curve of my mouth. “Good morning, Miss Reed.”
Her mouth closes and reopens. “Mr.—Sir. You’re in sweatpants.”
My lips twitch up for the smallest second. “That is correct. It seemed appropriate since we’re heading to the gym.”
Just when I thought she couldn’t look more thrown, she manages even bigger eyes. She clearly doesn’t want to go into the gym.
Is it because she’ll be surrounded by alpha pheromones? Or is it some other issue? It looks like I’ll have to figure her out the hard way; by throwing every alpha move I can at her and watching her reactions.
I give her a solid nod, projecting my certainty. “Yes. That’s where the team is gathered. They typically trade off between spending half of the day in the conditioning center and the other half on the practice field. They’re in the gym first today, due to the weather.”
She ignores the clouds swirling overhead, taking my word without verifying for herself, and steps closer.
Intent to follow my lead.
I won’t let myself examine exactly how much I like that.
