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Part of me wants to leave and never look back.
I feel a damp spot forming in my panties, and I’m shocked.
What the hell is going on?
But this isn’t about me or my body’s obnoxious reaction.
It’s about April.
And if that scent leads to someone that can help me, I need to suck it up and locate the source.
My palms are sweaty and my breathing is ragged, but I force my legs to move. I wander down a hall, following the incredible scent.
Almost every door I pass is closed and its window is dark. But there’s a light that shines near the end of the hall that streams in from an office.
One that has a door partially open.
There’s the faint sound of typing as I inch closer, allowing the scent to lead the way.
My heart pounds in my chest as I clutch the box of macarons tightly in front of me, as if the cookies offer me a sense of confidence that I don’t possess otherwise.
By the time I reach the cracked door, I’m holding my breath.
Do it for April.
Holding the cookies in one hand, I knock on the door with confidence, rapping loudly three times with my knuckles.
The typing on the other side of the door stops, and I want to run away.
“Come in,” a voice, low and silky, responds.
Of course, Alpha, my inner voice says, startling me.
Then I slowly push the door open.
I don’t even think. My body is on autopilot, and when I meet his handsome face, it’s all I can do to not drop the damn macarons.
He’s sitting at a desk, a computer in front of him. His light brown hair is cropped short and stylishly messy on top. He regards me with dark brown eyes, a slightly curious expression on his clean-shaven face.
And his scent.
It envelops me like an invisible embrace. It’s safety, kindness, and warmth, all rolled into one delectable man.
My inner Omega does backflips, awakened after months of being shoved to the side.
Mine, she snarls, and I ignore her feral claim, because what the fuck is happening?
Instead, I just stare at the Alpha like an idiot, my mouth slightly agape, standing in the doorway.
He’s dressed in a fitted white button-down shirt with rolled up sleeves that show off his forearms. His strong jaw and full lips make him the hottest detective I’ve ever seen in my life.
If Devyn could hear my thoughts, she would be shrieking with delight.
I’m ogling him.
“Can I help you?” he asks politely, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Uh…” I dart my eyes away from his gaze and focus on the nameplate on the desk.
