“Cher won’t mind?” Ian asked, squirming.
June shrugged. “She sees it as karma. You help others, others will help you in return.”
Ian bit his lip. It was tempting to have that layer of protection, even if it wasn’t real. “I’d like to, I guess. If you don’t mind.”
June gave a lopsided smile. “Been a while since I’ve done this.”
She reached over, brushing her wrists across his forehead. Then, down his neck and across his shoulders, and down his arms. And now Ian smelled faintly like June’s birch scent.
It wasn’t much—June’s scent wasn’t a promise, not like Brad’s had been. It was still nice, though, prolonging his job security. “Thanks,” Ian said. “That’s very generous of you.”
“Need me to do anything else?”
“Inform Brad that he’s been dropped from the Master’s course.” Ian winced. “I don’t think he wants to hear it from me.”
June looked oddly at him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Ian fidgeted. “Add that it was Harold Saxon’s imperative. I think he’ll be pissed.”
“Why aren’t you doing this yourself?” June asked. “I thought you were on good terms with him.”
Ian rubbed the itching scab on his arm. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. He… he found out about Gwen.”
“Oh, Ian.” June gave him a sympathetic look. Then she pulled him into a hug, patting his back. Her arms were strong, and she was warm against him, but she still wasn’t Brad. “Things will work out, just you see.”
Would they, really? Somehow, it seemed as though Ian’s life was one hurdle after another, one failed relationship after the next. “I hope so,” he said.
“They will,” June assured him. “Although I think Brad would prefer to hear it from you.”
Ian remembered Brad’s kiss at his apartment door. He wasn’t sure what that look in Brad’s eyes had been. It was impossible for Brad to love someone like him—Ian had far too many flaws. He was close to twice Brad’s age.
And yet… part of him still fluttered with hope.
He tucked his insecurities away, following June out of his office. Life still went on. They still had classes to teach.
* * *
Brad was waiting by Ian’s car at 8PM. Ian froze on the sidewalk, his heart stumbling in his chest.
“C’mon, Daddy,” Gwen said, tugging on his hand. “Brad’s waiting.”
Yeah, Ian could see that. Brad hadn’t showed up for class, and Ian had missed his presence. But maybe that was a good thing, because at least he could focus on teaching, instead of the one alpha who shook him to his core.
When he didn’t move, Brad began to walk over. Ian forced himself to step across the road. One foot in front of the other—he needed to keep moving. Get Gwen home and safe in bed.
He couldn’t hear anything past the thundering of his heart. He didn’t want to think about why Brad was waiting for him.
These past two weeks, Ian had been hugging himself, his mind a litany of He knows, he knows, he knows. Brad did know everything—Ian’s children, who their alpha dad was, and Ian’s terrible scars all over his skin.
Ian had expected Brad to be disgusted with him—gods knew Ian was plenty repulsed with himself.
You won’t amount to much, Ian’s mother had said a long time ago.
And yet Brad was here, his dark eyes boring into Ian, his gaze so heavy that Ian’s skin prickled. He gulped. Maybe Brad had just stopped by to confront him about the course.
At least Ian had an answer to that.
He sucked in a deep breath, then crossed the few remaining yards to Brad, wishing he could smile like Gwen was.
“Hello,” she said, waving at Brad. “Are you going to make the duck dinner today?”
Ian wanted to groan.
Brad smiled, waving back. “Depends on whether your dad lets me.”
Ian’s eyes snapped up, so fast they almost sprained.
Brad smiled at him, too. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Ian croaked, his stomach twisting into knots.
In the orange glow of the streetlamps, Brad looked good. He was wrapped in a sweater and dark pants, and Ian shouldn’t want to step back into his arms. He couldn’t believe Brad was here, making small talk with Gwen.
Well, maybe Brad was here to take Gwen away.
Ian unlocked his car, opening the passenger door so at least he had a say on where Gwen went. Omega parents didn’t have as much weight in court as their alpha counterparts.
“Hey.” Brad caught Ian’s arm, stepping close. “What’s wrong?”
Ian blinked hard. What was wrong? Everything. “Nothing.”
“You doing okay? I noticed you said nothing about the class today. Kindling emailed me.”
Ian winced. “Yeah. I asked her to.”
“How come?” Brad leaned in, and his nostrils flared. Then his eyes narrowed. “You smell like her.”
Ian flinched. Brad’s hand was warm. He smelled clean, like soap and walnut, and Ian desperately needed a hug. He’d been thinking about being found out all day, being fired, and the growing pile of bills back home. “Why are you still here?” he asked Brad.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Brad frowned. “I missed out on Saturday because there was a two-alarm fire on Prime Road, just down the street from the Apex. Electrical fire—someone crashed into a power line and it went down. It was a mess.”
Ian met his eyes, surprised. “Oh.”
“You didn’t hear about it?”
Ian shook his head, looking at the asphalt. “I wasn’t listening to the news.”
Brad caught Ian’s chin. Then he tipped Ian’s face toward his own, forcing Ian to hold his gaze. “What’s wrong? Why do you smell like Kindling? Did you… decide you don’t want to see me?”
Hesitation flickered through Brad’s eyes, and Ian shook his head, horrified. “No, no.” Couldn’t even begin to voice how afraid it made him, that Brad would decide he wasn’t interested anymore. “I just—I needed a cover. Your father asked whose it is.”
Ian grimaced, touching his belly. Brad narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t tell him the truth?”
“I couldn’t!” Ian glanced at Gwen, who had tucked herself into the passenger seat, her seatbelt already clicked in. “I have responsibilities, Brad. Things more important than who thinks who fathered whose baby.”
Brad snorted, but he slid his fingers into Ian’s hair, cradling his head. Then he pulled Ian close, and Ian panicked. Glanced around the parking lot, just in case anyone saw.
“His car isn’t here,” Brad said. “I yelled at him earlier. Got here right as he was leaving work.”
“Oh,” Ian said, relaxing a little. “Did you get reinstated back into the course?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it. In the meantime, I want to catch up on the coursework I missed.”
“So… that’s why you’re here,” Ian said, his heart beating too loud.
“Partly.”
And now Brad’s gaze was locked onto his. He pulled Ian close, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Ian froze against him. “Are you—sure?”
“Yeah.” Brad kissed him again, his lips soft against Ian’s, decadent. Shivers raced down Ian’s spine.
“Why are you still doing this?” Ian whispered.
“I told you. I’m still interested.”
“Oh.”
Brad kissed him deeper, slipping into Ian’s mouth. Ian’s insides melted; his toes curled, and there was so much care in Brad’s touch that Ian could scarcely believe this.
When Brad pulled away, his lips gleamed with damp. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”
“Maybe I don’t.”
Brad chewed on his lip, glancing around the parking lot. “C’mon, I’ll make you dinner. Or is that too late?”
It felt as though Ian was in a whole other dimension, or something. Where there was a young, handsome alpha who wanted him despite everything. “It’s a little late,” Ian said. �
�But we could have a light supper.”
“What sounds good?” Brad curled his fingers against Ian’s nape. Ian didn’t miss the way Brad dragged his wrist across Ian’s shoulders, marking over June’s scent.
Ian’s heart skipped. “Ask Gwen.”
So Brad turned, leaning over to meet Gwen’s eyes. She looked up from her phone. “What sounds good for supper?” Brad asked.
“Fried chicken wings!” She beamed.
Ian covered his face. “I did not raise my child to say that.”
Brad grinned, though. “She’s got her priorities straight—you gotta give her some credit.” He stepped back to Ian, squeezing his waist. “Meet you back at the apartment? Wings are on me.”
Ian cracked a smile, hardly believing his ears. “You’re sure about this?”
Brad brushed his thumb over Ian’s lip. “Yeah. I am. But I’m gonna make a quick stop to grab some frozen wings, unless you want to make it from scratch. Which will blow through any bedtime we have.”
“Sounds good,” Ian said, smiling wider. “Thanks.”
Brad pressed a kiss to his lips. “Be there soon.”
He stepped away, and Ian realized Brad had parked a couple spots down from him. So Ian climbed into his own car, started the engine, and began the drive home. Watched as Brad turned out through a different exit, heading toward the shops in town.
“You kissed Brad,” Gwen whispered.
10
Ian
Ian’s cheeks grew hot. “Yes, I did.”
“Does that mean you and Brad are… um…” Gwen looked around. Then she grabbed two plastic men-dolls from the glove box and mashed them together. “Like on TV?”
Ian tried not to grimace. Gwen had seen a couple of soft-core scenes on TV, when Ian had been too distracted by work to catch her watching them. She’d asked about the scenes, and Ian had been horrified at himself for letting the show slip through.
People do that when they’re with someone they care about a lot, he’d told her.
“It’s a bit different,” Ian said. “Brad isn’t staying around long.”
Gwen frowned. “Why not?”
“He’ll find somewhere else to be,” Ian said. He couldn’t expect Brad to want to commit for the rest of his life, after all.
Gwen hummed, and they made the rest of the drive home in silence, Gwen staring out the window at the streetlamps.
They arrived at the apartment first. Fifteen minutes later, Brad knocked on the door.
Ian’s heart skipped. He hurried to the door, all the while telling himself he shouldn’t care this much, he shouldn’t be this excited. His heart thudded when he peered through the peephole, finding Brad on the other side of the door. Brad had one hand in his pocket, a bag of frozen wings under his arm.
“Not quite how I planned on seducing you,” Brad said dryly when Ian threw the door open.
Ian laughed, surprised. “Me?”
Brad rolled his eyes. “You see another omega around?”
“Maybe one behind you, and one next door, and a few around the corner.”
Brad snorted, stepping into the apartment. Then he shut the door behind himself, and Ian still wasn’t sure how to react around him. They’d joked around, they’d fucked. But that was before Brad had found out about Gwen.
“How’re you guys?” Brad asked, bending to pull off his shoes.
Ian admired the flex of his muscles, his toned ass, his strong legs. “We’re, um, doing okay.”
“See something you like?” Brad murmured.
Ian gulped. “Maybe.”
He took the bag of breaded wings from Brad, hurrying to the kitchen. He’d already gotten the oven going, so all they needed was to set the wings on a tray, and pop them in.
Brad followed him. Ian strained his ears for Gwen, hoping she spent just a little longer in the bedroom.
“You sure you’re doing okay?” Brad asked, watching as Ian slid the tray of wings into the oven.
Ian shrugged. He felt better, now that he was home with Gwen. And now that Brad was here, still staying, instead of striding out the front door.
“I’m doing okay now.” Ian closed the oven door, leaning against the handle.
Brad stepped over. He slipped a sturdy arm around Ian’s waist, and Ian couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.
“I don’t know why you came back,” Ian admitted. He tensed, afraid Brad would realize he was right, and leave.
But Brad pulled Ian against his strong chest, pressing his nose into Ian’s hair. “I don’t know, either.”
Ian’s heart sank.
“All I know is that I judged you too fast the last time,” Brad murmured, stroking Ian’s side with his fingertips. “You had circumstances that stopped you from doing things. I wish you’d told me, though.”
“And, what, you’d step up to be a dad? You were barely out of school, Brad. I don’t know how much you could’ve helped with the bills at that point. It would probably have crippled you, too. I couldn’t do that to you.”
Ian thought about his mother, who had stayed home to be a housewife instead of going out to work. Then she’d become resentful that she’d given up her career for her children, blaming the failures in her life on Ian and his siblings.
The way Ian saw things, it was best for Brad to have a chance to spread his wings. Let him fly, before he chained himself to a life he thought he needed to have.
For a while, Brad said nothing. Then he slid his hand up Ian’s chest, holding Ian against himself. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m not the same person I was when I was twenty-two.”
Ian cracked a smile. “You aren’t?”
“I was a greedy bastard,” Brad said, his breath puffing warm on Ian’s skin. “Just wanted to have you to myself. I still do, but there’s more I have to look out for now.”
“So you’re a less greedy bastard?”
“Maybe a just-as-greedy bastard, but a Jack-of-all-trades sort of greedy.”
“That didn’t even make sense,” Ian said. “And yet I understand you.”
“See, we fit,” Brad growled, pressing his front against Ian.
Ian shivered, sinking against him. “So… you’re fine with this whole thing. Gwen. Me being older than you.”
Brad snorted. “Yeah. But it’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”
Ian winced, turning around to meet his eyes. “No, you do have a choice. I want you to know that. At every step of this… this thing, you aren’t tied down to what you think you should do. You could leave at any point, and I’ll—I’ll understand.”
It made his chest squeeze, though, offering Brad the option to leave.
Brad stared at him for a moment, his honey-brown eyes solemn. Then he pressed their foreheads together. “I’m here of my own free will. I’m sorry about the last time. Shouldn’t have said all that. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
Ian bowed his head, his heart swelling.
He couldn’t expect anyone to give him so much leeway. And yet here Brad was, apologizing to him. Holding Ian gently, his thumb stroking Ian’s spine.
With everything that Brad was, Ian was starting to like him more, in a way he probably shouldn’t.
He didn’t know why his heart fluttered the way it did, when Brad kissed his cheek.
“I shouldn’t be feeling this,” Ian mumbled.
“Feeling what?”
Ian touched his own chest. Brad frowned, and slipped his hand under Ian’s palm. Ian’s heart thumped against him.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a heart defect, too,” Brad said.
Ian stared, and then he was laughing so hard he couldn’t stop. It was the wrong thing to crack up about. He’d hated the words ‘heart defect’ after the countless hospital trips. And yet, Brad had meant it as a joke. Somehow, it was the funniest thing in the world right now, Ian having a defect, too.
His heart was still pounding. His stomach was doing funny things around Brad, and maybe there was something wrong wit
h him.
Ian panted as he came down from his laughter, sinking his face into Brad’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Just remind me not to do that when you’re drinking something,” Brad said wryly. “Otherwise you’ll grace me with your spit.”
“I thought you wanted that on you!”
“Not a fine, airbrushed mist on my face,” Brad said, but there was a smile in his voice.
“So a gush works fine?” Ian said, daring to tease. “Or a dribble?”
“Depends on what fluids, but yeah.” Brad grinned.
Ian met his eyes, sagging. It was a relief that Brad still wanted sex, too. “So… wings.”
“Yeah,” Brad said, glancing at the oven. “Wait, did you set the timer?”
Ian groaned. “No!”
Before he could reach for the egg timer, nausea rolled through his stomach. Ian paused, breathing in, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down.
Brad glanced over. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I need to puke.”
Brad frowned. “Already? I thought morning sickness doesn’t roll around until a month in.”
“It varies.” Ian hurried over to the bathroom. Gwen was on her way to the kitchen, but she didn’t seem to need him, so he turned on the bathroom light. Bent over the toilet, a second before his stomach roiled and clenched.
He hadn’t been prepared for it. The vomit burned out through his nose, and Ian coughed, grimacing when Brad pushed open the door. Ian spat, heaving again. Winced when Brad didn’t leave the bathroom.
Instead, Brad grabbed a mug, filling it with water. Then he crouched beside Ian, brushing Ian’s hair away from his face.
“I stink,” Ian said.
Brad stayed beside him, handing him the mug. He glanced around, grabbed the roll of TP, and tore off a few sheets for Ian. “More?”
Ian wiped the puke off his face, wincing. “I just have to wash up after this. It’s okay.”
He felt Brad’s hand on his back, though. Brad peered worriedly at him. The nausea had faded slightly, but this was only the start of weeks, if not months, of puking.
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