Page 55 of Foxy Filthy Omega

Frankie walkedinto her office without so much as a hello or good morning.

I clicked through the last of my required reading for the onboarding process without looking up from my monitor.

She walked around me and plopped down in her chair, cracking open an energy drink. She didn’t once glance at me despite the fact that I knew she could hear me clicking the mouse.

It wasn’t like I was in a corner of the room either. I set up my desk so it sat horizontally to hers and Lucy’s so I could see the both of them if I needed to.

Logging into her computer as she drained the energy drink made it look like she didn’t have a single care in the world, but the circles under her eyes said differently.

Her skin looked a little paler than normal and if I had to take a guess, I’d say she’s lost some weight too despite all the workouts she did every day.

She looked fucking terrible and I couldn’t figure out why.

Based on her tracker, she didn’t even stop at her favorite bakery on the way to work today and I did my best not to shatter yet another mouse.

It didn’t matter to me if she took care of herself or not.

If I went to get her something to eat, she’d just ignore it and I hated wasting food. It wasn’t like I could force-feed her either without getting fired.

Fuck me I guess.

I never should have sparred with her. My gut was never wrong about these kinds of things. I should have stuck to my guns and told her I’d spar with anyone other than her.

The way I’d acted – like a lovesick, feral alpha…that had to be the reason she was doing this.

Nothing I did or said to try to fix this would matter to her. I could tell that much at least. So, the best option was to act like it didn’t bother me at all.

But it was.

It was driving me fucking insane actually.

The urge to grab her face andforceher to look at me was bubbling up, pressing against my skin until it felt like it was about to burst.

I’ve never had this problem before. No one’s ever made me feel one way or another about anything. The job was the only thing I’ve ever cared about, but I just couldn’t see her as a job anymore no matter how hard I tried.

It was absolutely ridiculous how badly I wanted her to look at me andseeme. Just once. That’s all I needed. Then I’d have a reason to tell her she needed to eat something and drink anything other than those awful energy drinks.

And why the fuck did she always have to smell like dessert? Whatwasthat?

It wasn’t her natural scent, but it added to it so well that it made my mouth water when we were in an enclosed space like this for any length of time.

She wore scent blockers, so her pheromones didn’t fill up the space the same way they probably did in her apartment, but there was only so much you could do about a room someone spent a lot of time in over the years.

Her very essence was steeped into the walls.

Along with the very, very faint scent of an omega.

That scent disgusted me, but it wasn’t like I could do anything about it. All I could do without getting a write up was set the air filters as high as they could go and scrub the walls after hours.

It was a lot better than it had been, but I could still smell the faint scent of roses all intertwined with Frankie’s and I fucking hated it.

I sighed, annoyed with myself. This was a job. I was here to find the information I needed and get the fuck out.

Thinking about all this other shit was pointless.

And since when did the scent of a stranger’s pheromones bother me?

Someone knocked on the door and I leaned back in my chair, one hand resting on my thigh, within reach of my gun.

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