“Maeve?” The door to an exam room opens, and there Ivan is, smiling at me. “And...Bean?” he finishes, looking at the kitten in my arms.
Ivan never forgets any pet names. Even if we only have a cat at Furs and Purrs for a day, he commits their name to memory and asks how they’re doing.
“Hey,” I chirp as Ivan waves for me to enter the exam room. The dark blue scrubs he wears emphasize his chiseled physique—veiny forearms lead to thick biceps, and his tall broad frame exudes physical strength.
But despite his size, I know he wouldn’t harm a fly. His rich ochre eyes are energetic, but kind. Even on days where he’s not in the best mood, he still looks at me like I’m the only Omega he’s ever seen.
As I enter the exam room I wonder if his dark, tousled wavy hair is as soft as it looks. His sweet apple scent overwhelms me—my mouth waters, tingles race through my body, and my heart beats wildly in my chest.
Until Bean begins his sneezing fits again, breaking the spell and covering me in cat snot.
“I’ve got like, a minute before the next patient,” Ivan says, his brow furrowing when he looks at Bean. “Is everything okay?”
“He’s sneezing a lot,” I murmur. “And I’m kind of worried. Piper and Blair say it could just be dust, but I wanted your opinion.”
“How often?” he asks, taking Bean from me. The cat burrows into Ivan’s broad chest, purring happily.
“It’s little sneezing fits, but Blair said it just started today.”
Ivan gently strokes the top of the kitten’s head. “Is he breathing weird at all?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Is he playing still?”
“We were just playing now,” I say. “But what could it be? Why is he sneezing so much? Is he okay? Could he get worse?” The panic in my chest builds the more I ask questions.
If Ivan is annoyed by my frantic rapid-fire questions, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he appears amused.
“I’m going to take his temperature to give you peace of mind,” he says gently. “But honestly, Maeve? As long as he’s playing, eating, drinking, and using the litter box normally, I wouldn’t be too worried. Granted, I’m not a vet, but?—”
“But you’re a vet tech and smart as hell,” I say. “And I trust your judgement.”
“Let’s keep an eye on it,” Ivan says, his smile widening. “It could be a little irritation, or worst case, a cold.”
“What about asthma? What about a lung infection?”
Ivan still isn’t irritated with me. Instead, his eyes are fond, his mouth slightly upturned.
That expression is enough to make me want to build a nest, burrow in it, and only think about that look on his face for the rest of my life.
Hell, sneezy Bean can come too.
“You would likely see some very strange breathing,” Ivan says as he takes the cat’s temperature in its ear. “Again, as long as he’s playing, eating, drinking, and using the litter box like normal, I don’t see any cause for concern. I can always ask our doctors, too.”
“Doctors?” I repeat. “As in, plural?”
He nods. “We have another one starting tomorrow. I trained under him, and he’s the best veterinarian I’ve ever met. You’ll like him a lot.”
Not the way I like you,my inner Omega purrs.Not the way I want you.
“Temperature is normal, by the way,” Ivan says, relieving Bean from his exam. “You can isolate him, just to be sure, and keep him away from the other cats for now.”
As he hands Bean back to me, Ivan’s apple scent wafts over me again.
I wonder if I affect him the same way.
My own scent is earthy and chamomile—similar to my brother’s, but more delicate and sweeter.
