One is slightly more squinty than the other. During his slow blink, one eye didn’t full open again.
But he nuzzles into my touch, his purr as loud as a car engine as I lean closer to inspect.
“Hey,” I whisper. “What’s going on?”
Then, Alvin lowers his head to paw quickly at his squinty eye.
When he’s done, he looks back at me, still purring.
But one eye is almost all the way closed.
Another spike of panic makes my chest clench.
It’s just a squinty eye. It’s not the end of the world, and Alvin is fine.
But then he paws at itagain, and I’m yanking open the drawer to the desk and grabbing the package of eye wipes out of it.
He’s patient as he lets me dab at the outside of his eye, but it still stays squinty after.
And it turns out searching his symptoms online isn’t a good idea. The results point to numerous damning diagnoses.
Forgetting my excitement at seeing Ivan and meeting Logan, I snap a picture of Alvin’s face on my phone then hurry out of the front of the building, motioning at Piper from the cat playroom to watch the reception area while I’m gone. Whatever she sees on my face must startle her, because she widens her eyes and nods.
Then, I’m bursting into the clinic, my phone still open to the photo of Alvin.
“Hey!” Ramona says, waving from her desk. “How’s Bean?”
“He’s fine,” I say breathlessly. “Um…does Ivan have any time?”
Ramona’s smile fades. “Yeah. Is everything okay?”
“Yes! Yup. Uh-huh,” I stammer, sounding ridiculous. “I just need to ask him a question.”
Squinty-eyed Alvin is burned in my mind, and I’m catastrophizing every second I don’t have an answer.
“Yeah, I can let him know—” Ramona starts, but a wave of apple and caramel scent wafts through the air the same time an exam room door opens.
Ivan grins, showing off charming dimples, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
My inner Omega purrs awake, licking her lips hungrily.
But then the worries come crashing back down, and I hurry into the room when he motions me in.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, shutting the door as his smile fades. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Alvin has a brain tumor,” I blurt out, my voice cracking.
There’s a pause as Ivan processes my words. “You thinkwhat?”
“Here.” I hand him my phone. “He was fine, but then he started squinting. And I looked it up?—”
But my words die off when the back door to the tiny exam room opens, and the newest addition to the staff walks in.
Spicy, warm bourbon and rich vanilla fill my senses, and everything I was about to say comes to a screeching halt as I take in the Alpha in front of me.
Golden brown eyes regard me curiously, and I forgot how to breathe.
His dirty blonde hair is tousled slightly, just long enough for me to run my fingers through if I wanted, and his jawbones are so sharp it’s ridiculous. With full lips and strong nose, he’s more handsome than I anticipated.
