I don’t get jealous.
And I certainly don’t get insecure.
But when I read Skylar’s text and I realize River is staying at her place, I want to tear my hair out.
I thought he would drop her off and spend the night in a hotel.
It’s stupid, really. I should be glad he’s there—Skylar has someone with her, and he’s needed some type of distraction from this case. Even if he can’t stand me, I still need a partner that can mentally show up for work.
Which is why I had him drive Skylar home. And I’ll have a chance to see her, too, when I pick him up. I can say goodbye to her, and tell her it was nice to meet her, and thank her for the cookies.
With River away, it gives me time to organize our notes and have some peace and quiet in our building.
The insufferable detective barely sleeps. He prefers to spend his nights in the office, and occasionally I’ll catch him slumped over on his desk, exhaustion finally winning.
Tonight, I’m alone, and I sip on a cup of coffee as I compare notes.
But I’m distracted, and I do something I would chastise anyone else for—I utilize our resources for personal use.
I look up Skylar.
I don’t do anything too invasive—she deserves her privacy, still—but I check for any criminal records.
Nothing. She’s clean.
I stare at the picture on her driver’s license too long. The smile she gives the camera is different than the small one she gifted me—the Omega I saw today had a sad, defeated expression behind her eyes.
It’s a look I’ve seen far too many times on people.
Skylar is suffering, and there’s nothing I can do to rectify it.
I don’t get attached to people—that’s one thing River and I have in common. We both dedicate ourselves to our job and put in more time than most people.
But if I had the time…
I would want to help Skylar.
My Alpha wants an Omega badly. I want to provide, I want to nourish, I want to knot.
I want all the things that this job makes difficult to have.
I continue to stare at her photo like a lovesick little boy, my cock growing hard.
But I won’t debase her like that, even if the thought of touching myself while staring at her photo is tempting.
I close the browser window and sigh, running my hand through my hair. I need to sleep, too. I’m supposed to pick River up in the morning, but it would be helpful if he answered any of my texts.
Unless he’s with Skylar and they’re…
No. It’s not my business.
But the ache in my chest grows, and I realize how attached I’ve already become to this Omega.
She brought us cookies.
No one does that for us.
I look for the box they came in, but it’s not at my desk anymore.
I frown.
The only people that saw that box were me, her, and River…
Standing up from my chair, I make my way down the hallway and into River’s office.
Sitting on his desk chair is the white box, with half the macarons eaten.
I scoff.
In moving the box off the chair, the armrest nudges his computer mouse, and his monitor lights up.
He must have forgotten to lock his computer.
But Skylar Bloom shows on the screen, and I realize we were both doing the same thing.
He had pulled up the police report of her friend’s disappearance, which was filled out by his cousin.
I study it quickly, then sigh.
It’s a missing persons case we can’t afford to take on, yet now both of us are intrigued.
“Shit,” I murmur to myself, as I absentmindedly pluck a cookie from the box. It’s warm vanilla flavor, and it tastes exactly like how Skylar smelled.
Fuck.
I am not about to be become hard because of a cookie.
But I imagine her slick tastes the same way.
I grip the edge of the desk, steadying my breathing as I swallow.
I want her.
I want her so badly it hurts. My cock begs to be touched, but I ignore it as best I can and hurry out of River’s office.
It’s time to get some sleep.
Grabbing my jacket, I make my way out of the building and into the parking lot, where I pull out my phone.
I may be stretched thin, but there’s possibly one person that could help Skylar find her friend.
I know his instinct will be to say no, because he’s almost as unbearable as River. But it’s possible that once he meets her, he’ll be just as affected as we both were.
So, I send a text to someone that wants nothing to do with me.
One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever met.
Vincent.
