Page 9 of Craving Their Omega

I frown. I know my outfit is completely appropriate for the office, and if she’s making some barbed comment about the quality?—

“Because you have a stain on your shirt. Jam, if I’m not mistaken.”

I look down and my heart sinks when I realize she’s right. There’s a dark red blob right over my chest where some of the jam from my Danish must have squished out and landed on me. And I didn’t even notice.

Before I can say anything else, Sienna walks away, her heels clicking across the polished floor as she goes. That’s honestly the nicest thing she could have done for me in this situation, since my cheeks are probably as red as the stain on my shirt right now.

I rush to the bathroom, blinking back tears of embarrassment. So much for a treat on my first day at the office. So much for doing something nice for myself. All I’ve done is give Sienna even more ammo to hate me or whatever and made an idiot of myself before I even have my foot in the door good.

“Stupid,” I mumble under my breath as I take the shirt off and wet the stain in the sink. “Why didn’t I check before I left the bakery? I wouldsomuch rather have done this in their bathroom than here.”

It’s a close thing, but at least I could have just never shown my face there again. Unlike here, where I have to come five days a week and deal with Sienna smirking at me.

I scrub furiously at the stain, relieved when it starts to come out. At least that’s something. I’ll just have a damp shirt instead of a stained shirt. Especially since I can’t afford to replace this piece of my wardrobe yet.

I breathe a sigh of relief that at least this crisis is mostly averted and take the shirt over to the hand dryer to try to deal with the worst of the dampness.

So of course that’s the moment the door to the bathroom bangs open and someone walks in.

I brace myself for it to be Sienna, coming to deliver yet another acidic comment about me being late or whatever, but when I turn my head to see, it’s actually so much worse.

Because it’s not Sienna standing there with that smug expression on her pretty face. No, it’s Xavier, standing in the doorway and looking just as shocked to see me standing there in the bathroom in just my bra and skirt as I am to see him here at all.

“Mr. Sterling!” I yelp, my hands flying up to try to cover myself with my shirt. “I—you—what are you doing in here?”

Is he looking for me? Did Sienna feed him some crap about me goofing off or being unfit for the job or something?

A bemused smile spreads across his handsome face, lighting up his bright spring green eyes even more. “This is the men’s room, Ms. Dalton,” he says, amusement coloring his tone. “So I think I should be asking you that question.”

Oh my god.

Just kill me now.

If I could sink through the floor and become one with the foundation I would. It would be better than this. I’ve been here five minutes—fiveminutes—and I’ve already embarrassed myself more than the last five months combined.

And the kicker is that even though I want to keep my eyes trained on the tiled floor so I don’t have to see him seeing me like this, his presence is so magnetic that I can’t help but glance up at him to take him in.

His pants are well tailored and pressed, and he’s just in a crisp white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair is tousled again, but he somehow manages to look perfectly put together as well as completely touchable.

Approachable. Completely approachable.

“I amsosorry,” I rush to say. “It was just—I had a stain, and I didn’t want to look sloppy, so I came to fix it, and I guess I didn’t look before I came in, and?—”

“Ms. Dalton.” He cuts me off with a smile, less amused now and more just kind. “I’m going to ask you to do something for me, all right?”

This is it. He’s going to ask me to hand over my ID badge and leave. Or at the very least, he’s going to ask me to get out of the men’s room so he can pee in peace.

He steps closer to me, not quite entering my personal space, but getting close enough that it makes my heart beat even faster, which is impressive, considering it’s already doing double time just from the sheer mortification I feel right now.

“Okay,” I murmur, trying not to hang my head in defeat.

Xavier smiles again. “Take a breath.”

“What?”

He demonstrates, inhaling deeply and then letting it out in a slow exhale. “You’re freaking out. Breathing will help.”

I nod shakily and force myself to do as he asks. Almost immediately, I’m hit with something that’s not quite regret when my senses are flooded with his fresh mint and coconut scent. It’s so light that it cuts through the worst of my embarrassment, but it also hits me with a spike of feeling that’s just as intense.

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