Page 49 of Pack Plus One

No. Bad omega.

I glance at the clock: 7:15 AM. Caleb’s text from last night flashes through my mind like a warning siren:

Caleb:Tomorrow. 8 AM. I’m bringing coffee.

I snort. Yeah, right. Like Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Intimidating actually meant that. Probably just a playful parting shot after a ridiculous weekend.

Rolling out of bed, I pull on my running gear. A good jog will clear my head, sweat out the lingering scents of the pack, and—most importantly—help me forget the way Caleb’s hands felt on my hips last night.

The morning air does nothing to clear my head.

Three miles later, I’m back at my apartment building, drenched in sweat and no less distracted than when I left. Every pounding footstep against pavement had only seemed to echo Caleb’s text in my skull:8 AM. I’m bringing coffee.

As if.

The man probably sends those messages to all his one-night-stands. I yank open the lobby door too hard, still trying to convince myself that’s all this was.

I take the elevator up. The ride gives me exactly twelve seconds to regret not stretching properly, and approximately ten of those seconds are spent remembering how Jude’s tongue had felt working the tension from my g-spot.

Damn it.

I’m so busy scowling at my traitorous thoughts that I almost miss it. That rich, dark scent curling through the hallway the moment I step off the elevator. My sneakers squeak against the tile as I freeze.

No. No way.

But there’s no mistaking that particular blend of dark chocolate. My stomach does a slow, treacherous flip even as my pulse kicks into a sprint.

Peeking around the corner, I confirm my worst fear.

Shit.

There he is, leaning against my doorframe with the casual confidence of a man who owns the building. Two coffee cups in hand, looking entirely too at ease for someone who allegedly spent a night on a hard floor. His dark hair is slightly tousled, his jaw freshly shaved, and the soft shirt he’s wearing hugs his chest in a way that should be illegal before noon.

Way too good.

My traitorous omega biology makes me want to hum with appreciation. It sends a rush of warmth through my core that has absolutely nothing to do with the coffee he’s brought.

Nope. Abort, abort!

Before he can see me, I duck back around the corner, pressing myself against the wall, adrenaline surging through my veins.Think, Leah, think. I need somewhere to hide! But where!

My heart hammers hard in my chest and I feel like he’ll come down the corridor, turn the corner, and see me at any moment. That’s when it hits.

The basement laundry room! Perfect hiding spot.

I fumble for my phone, nearly dropping it twice before managing to speed-dial Zoe.

“He’s here,” I hiss-whisper the moment she picks up. “Caleb. With coffee.”

Zoe’s muffled laughter echoes through the phone. I couldn’t help it. I’d spilled everything to her last night after I spent several hours unable to sleep. I’d needed to tellsomeone. “He brought you coffee? Awwww, that’s so... alpha.”

“Alpha? He’sstalkingme!”

“Stalking you with lattes? Honey, that’s a romantic, not a horror movie.” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Just go up there and get your caffeine fix. And maybe his number while you’re at it.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “Though, if he tries anything funny, you know I’ve got that taser...”

“I already have his number,” I hiss, “which is part of the problem!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Zoe says flatly. “Go get your hot alpha and your hot coffee. In that order.”