Page 64 of Heat Lightning

I nodded.

“Very good. Please have a seat. Dr. Grover will be right with you.”

The waiting room was filled with furniture that had no business being so clean. I sat on the edge of my seat, afraid to even look at it too long.

“Do you think someone wipes these down every night?” I whispered to Gwen. “Seriously, white leather? In a waiting area?”

She snorted, but before she could reply, a door to our left opened and one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen stepped out.

He wore a collared button-up under a cream sweater that would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else this time of year, but somehow, he made it look very coastal summer. Contrasted against his dark eyes and hair, he was striking.

“Gwen,” he greeted with a warm smile, walking over to hug her. “It’s been too long. How are you?”

“Never better,” she said with a wink. “This is my friend, Max.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello, Max,” he said, offering his hand to shake. “My name is Owen. It’s nice to meet you.”

Flustered by his general broadness, I returned the handshake. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Right. I’ll leave you two to it,” Gwen said, headed for the exit.

“Wait, you’re not staying?” I asked, turning red at the slight squeak in my voice.

She smirked. “No. But I’ll be ready to leave whenever you are.”

That conniving, meddling⁠—

“Please, come have a seat in my office,” Owen said, holding open the door for me.

Ugh. Hopefully, this would be quick.

The plush cream loveseat he offered once inside was far more comfortable than the waiting room furniture, if not as intimidatingly clean.

He took the matching armchair opposite and gave me another one of those smiles that actually reached his eyes. “So, how can I help you, Max?”

“Well,” I said, deeply embarrassed at the idea of laying it all out there for a stranger. I decided to go with a version that wasn’t exactly a lie, but more adjacent to the truth. “I think my heat will start soon. The doctor said I shouldn’t spend it alone for medical reasons, but I don’t have anyone in mind, and I don’t want to go back to the clinic.”

He nodded in understanding. “Thank you for sharing that with me. How about I tell you a bit about me and how I work, and we can go from there?”

Grateful I wouldn’t have to lead anymore, I relaxed back into the sofa. “Sounds good.”

“I understand you might be nervous. It’s perfectly normal to be,” he said, leaning forward. “Trust me, most are. I know these are unusual circumstances to meet under, but I promise—we’re just having a conversation. I prefer to chat with my clients first to see what areas of concern they have and assess if we’d be a good fit before we move into discussing a heat service agreement. So if you have any questions for me, fire away.”

“Well,” I cleared my throat. “How can you tell if we’d be a good match without jumping into… things?”

He smiled. “I check for general comfort and ease with one another, including open lines of communication. I also look for scent compatibility. It’s a strong indicator for a comfortable heat. Which I have to say, I think we’re a good match. But please tell me if you feel differently.”

I blushed. It was so incredibly odd to basically be told I smelled hot to this Adonis of an alpha. “You smell good, too.”

He smelled perfectly fine, but my omega took one whiff and turned around in dismissal.

Little shit.

“I’m glad. So, tell me. What are you looking for in a heat partner?”

I want to be called sweetheart while being held down and fucked within an inch of my life. Bonus points if you’re wearing a snarling skull mask.