A partial print.
A fucking partial print of nothing, and that’s all I can tell Skylar.
On Valentine’s Day.
Ben is useless, his entire department is useless, and I feel like an even bigger piece of shit for agreeing to help her in the first place.
We don’t make promises. We can’t, and I’ve all but committed my entire existence to bringing her friend back.
And still, I have fucking nothing.
I didn’t even bring her flowers, and it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.
As I drive to her house, I fight the urge to smoke.
The pack is still sitting in my cupholder, but her snide little comment about my cigarettes stuck with me.
I’m not trying to impress her—I just happen to be trying to quit at the same time she expressed her disgust.
It’s not the same thing.
It’s fucking not.
As I pull into her neighborhood, I see Landon’s car already in her driveway.
Maybe he has better news for her.
But when I make my way up her driveway, the scent hits me.
I haven’t smelled it in so long that I almost forgot what it was like.
It almost knocks me over; it fogs my mind with nothing but need. It’s sweet, cloying, and so delicious my mouth waters.
Skylar’s in Heat.
She’s in fucking Heat.
My inner Alpha roars, and I almost break my fist as I bang on the door.
It’s vanilla, it’s cinnamon, it’s perfection, and if I don’t get close to her right fucking now, I’ll break the door down.
But Landon’s the one that answers, and I pause, but only for a second.
He wants what’s best for her, and so do I.
My hatred for him aside, there’s an unspoken truce between us.
He doesn’t say anything to me. He simply nods his head slightly, acknowledging my presence, and I’m almost running down the hallway toward her bedroom.
And the scent. The entire house smells like Skylar, and my cock is so painfully hard that I could cut fucking glass with it once I enter her bedroom.
She’s beautiful. Her dark hair fans around her pillow, and her skin is flushed and slightly pink. Most of her is under her nesting blankets, and I smirk when I see the lavender one she draped over me the other night.
She smiles when she sees me, the widest smile she’s ever gifted me, and I’m done for.
Mine.
“She’s nervous,” Landon says, and I finally notice he’s entered the room with me. “She’s worried that we won’t be able to share her, or even want to.”
He keeps his gaze on Skylar, and she swallows and nods sheepishly. Even through her lust-filled haze, those damn insecurities flood to the surface, and I’ll do fucking anything to drive them away.
“Well,” I say, shrugging off my jacket and draping it on her desk chair, “let’s show her how wrong she is.”
I hear Landon chuckle beside me.
