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Olive can sit anywhere she wants. She can sit on my desk chair; she can sit on the fucking desk and break my monitors for all I care.
She can sit on my face…
I shake the thought away and step aside so she can sink into the plush leather chair. She scoots forward like this is the hundredth time she’s been in my office, not the first.
“Nice ergonomic keyboard,” she laughs, running her fingers along the keys. “Was it really worth five hundred dollars?”
Of course, she knows which model I bought.
I don’t blush. Idon’t.
“Great for the wrists,” I say confidently. “And the perfect space between keys.”
“Mm-hmm.” She smilesagain,and my chest tightens.
“And of course…the matching mouse,” she chuckles.
She’s teasing me. This little Omega isteasingme, and I’m letting her, like a fucking idiot.
“Don’t tell Killian or Dylan,” I say, quirking my lip. “They’ll just give me shit.”
“I’mgiving you shit, and I work in the same field as you.” But her smile quickly fades. “Used to, I mean. I haven’t been able to use a computer in weeks.”
She can use mine, though, because I’m already logged in.
We fall silent as she opens the web browser, going to an international news site.
The front page is all aboutEden, and her scent slowly sours as she reads.
“What the fuck,” she murmurs, opening multiple internet tabs to pull up different news sites.
As I watch her, her face crumbles. The salt of her tears fills my senses, and there’s nothing I can do.
I’m helpless, as she continues to read. A tear falls down her cheek and my inner Alpha howls, incensed at her sorrow. Her scent, once lively and intoxicating, sours.
Without thinking, I pull the other chair from next to my bookshelf and join her at my desk.
“I know there’s a bounty,” she whispers, still staring at the screen. “I can’t even look up my family, or check my email, without it being monitored. They’ll track the fucking IP number to find me. The only reason I could use your computer was thatyouwere the one that turned it on.”
I don’t have a response.
Her lower lip trembles. “I’m not even sad,” she continues. “I’m…angry. I’m so furious that it makes me cry.”
Her confession stuns me, and I struggle to find a response.
“I’m sorry,” I offer.
I would doanythingto see that smile again.
The perfume of her sadness tears at my fuckingsoul, and I’m helpless to do anything about it.
“Ah.” She lets out a mixture of a groan and sigh and wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “This is going to sound strange…but I have a proposition for you.”
I freeze as she turns her attention to me. “What?”
We’re only inches apart, and I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes, swirling with the lovely ocean blue, as she continues. “I know you don’t like me.”
Guilt runs through my veins as I struggle to reply. “What?” I demand, incensed.
