Birthday with his Omega

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Birthday with his Omega Page 3

by Lorelei M. Hart


  It was an automated caller asking if I wanted to talk about solar energy, but I pretended it was a work emergency and yanked my feet out of Dr. Hartman’s hands. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, but I’m sure he appreciated the few extra minutes he had to take care of that knot in his pants.

  I walked around the town of Mapleville for about an hour, hoping my Thad might just show up on the street corner at exactly the same time I was there. But, of course, that didn’t happen. As much as I wanted to make this work, I wasn’t any closer to finding that sweet ginger omega who came back to give me a ride after I fought for his honor.

  Some things just aren’t meant to be, I guess.

  6

  Thad

  “Haven’t seen you in a while.” Joaquim startled me when he snuck up behind me. I swore the man was half cat.

  “They had me working in the pediatric wing the last couple of weeks. Johanna is in the Bahamas getting lots of sun and fun.”

  Not that I minded rotating floors nor begrudged her the fun. Being a respiratory therapist for the NICU was rewarding but also pretty heavy at times. Most all the babies that came here needed my services, and while their best chances for survival in the state were here, not all of them made it. That made a change of scenery necessary once in a while.

  Not that the PICU was all sunshine and roses, but it was nice to interact with the kids. We even had one toddler with pneumonia who giggled when she saw me, knowing I was going to put her on what her dad called “the shaking machine.” Those moments were the best—when you saw that what you did not only mattered but also spread joy.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” He slapped me on my back as I threw my bag into my locker. “We have three new babies this week. Triplets.”

  “Are they local?” I hadn’t heard of anyone in Mapleville carrying triplets. Usually I was the first to know because more often than not, they ended up with us for at least a day or two—usually longer.

  “They’re from Oak Grove, but they were born here. The mom was in distress, and they knew the babies were coming earlier than they had hoped, so they brought her here by ambulance so she could deliver with the NICU ready. They’re doing amazing though. All three pounds of them.”

  “A piece?” I knew Joaquim well enough to know he might glom them all together.

  “Naw, total but it sounds less scary when I add them together.”

  I just shook my head.

  “I’m about to grab some coffee and pie. You don’t start for another thirty, so come with?”

  I knew from experience that working the overnight meant your body didn’t always know what it wanted to eat, but having pie when it was still dark out amused me. And I was early thanks to my inability to sleep as of late. “It’s not even seven am.” Not that I was going to turn down pie.

  “The coffee will do you good, and I need to stay until noon to train a newbie, so I need my coffee.” As if he ever went without.

  “Fine. But you’re buying.” I elbowed him out of my way and walked out of the staff room. “You owe me anyway.”

  “How so?” He caught up, walking beside me.

  I hadn’t talked to him since my date of awfulness. Although, in the end, it was significantly less awful...until I bunged it up by not just giving the guy my number like a normal human being.

  “Oh, get on OmMatch…” I spoke mockingly, shoulder bumping him as we walked along. “You’ll find your perfect mate and be blissfully happy like I am with my wonderful husband and beautiful baby.”

  “I did not sound like that.” He kind of really did. Joaquim was alpha to the core until he started talking about Brent—then he turned into a mush ball. It was pretty darn adorable. “And besides, one dud doesn’t make the entire dating site a fail. Get off the ground and back on that alpha.”

  “You did not even just make a sex—never mind.” Because of course he had.

  We pressed the button for the elevator because the stairwells were being cleaned. “I don’t even want to know. Besides, I lost my account.”

  Or more accurately, the asshat had it shut down.

  “How do you lose an account? They don’t even care about dick pics anymore.”

  He was not wrong there. I’d been on a grand total of five minutes and didn’t even have my profile picture set up when they came flooding into my inbox. I liked a good cock as well as the next guy, but from a guy and time of my choosing, not from strangers whose name I didn’t even know.

  “I lost my account because I went out with the ever lovely John—also known as the Date Rape Drug poster child—.”

  “Oh my God.” Joaquim cut me off as the elevator door opened, not taking a step forward. “Are you—did he—?”

  I climbed into the elevator, which was thankfully empty.

  “No, I caught a bit of the undissolved pill with my straw, called the bouncers, and got the heck out of dodge.” I pressed the button for our floor.

  “You’re getting pie too, and we are sitting down for the rest of this because I sense it’s something I’m going to want to be seated for.”

  “Probably. And the banana cream, please, because if I’m going to tell this tale, I’m going to need whipped cream.” I was only half teasing. I’d yet to tell anyone about the night except Ren, who I had zero ways of finding unless I went to his apartment complex and knocked on every door, hoping he was home and that I’d reach him before someone called the cops on my loser ass.

  We made our way to the cafeteria, me grabbing the coffee as Joaquim grabbed the pie, before sitting at the back corner table. It was an off time, so the place was quieter than normal, but in the next few minutes, I expected the mass herds of nurses who were about to start their shifts to come in for their caffeine fills. Sure, the stations had coffee, but it was pretty darn gross.

  “So explain how all that got your account cancelled,” he said just as I shoveled a forkful of pie into my mouth.

  I explained the entire night to him from the time I met up with John in the parking lot, to my inappropriate gawking at another man while on a date, granted a bad one, but a date nonetheless, to discovering the pill and then ending with me driving away—alone. I left no detail untold, and it felt remarkably freeing to get it out there. I hadn’t realized until that point how much the attempted assault had impacted me—I’d been too focused on messing things up with Ren.

  “When I got home, I went to report John to the service only to find myself locked out.”

  Joaquim gave me a hand wave, asking me to finish.

  I inhaled deeply, not wanting my rage to show. “The asshole reported me for assault.” Not that I was the one who hit him, although I wanted to...that was for sure.

  “Did you file a report with them too?” Joaquim put his fork down, and I saw him trying to hide his anger. He was livid.

  “I tried the next day when they had real people who I could talk to, and they said I’d been reported for assault which was against their terms of service.” Of course, I counter-argued that he was making a false report, but I left that bit off for Joaquim. It looked as if the bare bones story was already too much for his protective instincts to handle.

  “They closed his account.” I tried to make that sound far more reassuring than it was. With a name like John Juan, you knew he had multiple profiles going at once. “They said that given the visual proof of his injuries, they were going to keep my account closed pending an investigation.”

  Which was their way of saying they didn’t want to deal with it. Not that I’d been gung ho to get back on the saddle, as it were.

  “What bullshit,” Joaquim spit out through his clenched teeth.

  “Indeed.” I snagged a banana slice off my pie with my fingers. “The worst part—aside from someone trying to make my sorry butt a victim—is that I told Ren my OmMatch name, so if he tried to find me, he probably thinks I gave him the equivalent of a fake number.”

  And that was the only reason I cared at all about the stupid account. I’d g
iven the info to some semi-drunk alpha I thought was hot and who had saved me from a predator. I was all kinds of warped over this thing.

  “Did you tell him to look for you on OmMatch?” He picked up his coffee, appearing calmer. That was good. I was glad to have someone to talk to, but seeing that it hurt him made me second-guess that choice.

  “I don’t remember.” Knowing me, I didn’t.

  “Then get an account at all the other places, especially AlphaMe. It seems to be the hot new site.”

  I disagreed. It was the epitome of an I wanna get nailed site and not for people looking to settle down, despite what some people wanted to read into the name.

  “It’s been two weeks. If he was going to look for me, he’d have done it by now.”

  “Or not. Look how long it took me to find Brent after our first date.”

  Oh how he loved to tell his story, not that anyone with social media hadn’t already heard it. Often.

  “Which had nothing to do with a dating app whatsoever.” I cut him off as the clock caught the corner of my eye. We didn’t have time for his beautiful romance. Not if I was going to be at my station on time.

  “It was still over the interwebs, so there you go.” He fluffed off my excuse just as he had when I tried to use it to not get into the virtual dating scene. “Just try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  I gave him my best really look.

  He didn’t relent.

  “Fine,” I conceded. “And Joaquim?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for the pie.” I took my last forkful before washing it down with my coffee.

  “In case you were wondering, that was me rolling my eyes at you.” Joaquim chuckled as he grabbed my plate and got up.

  “Whatever. I’m going up to the floor and see what’s doing.” And try to not obsess over the idea of opening accounts on all the sites with the hopes of finding Ren...because that wasn’t stalker like. Not at all.

  7

  Ren

  So he blew me off. He’s not the first guy… Well, okay, he is the first guy to completely blow me off. But it’s not the end of the world. Hell, if he gave me his real contact info, I’d be worried he didn’t have a strong survival instinct because what little Thad, if that was even his name, knew about me was all pretty bad.

  He met me at my worst...and things went downhill from there. I was drunk and loud with my buddies, doing blow jobs off strangers in a bar, and then I beat the shit out of a different stranger that he’d been on a date with.

  Why wouldn’t he give me a fake name?

  Maybe because I wanted him to feel the connection that I felt. The same connection that was obviously one-sided and probably romanticized by my alcohol-addled brain.

  Maybe he wasn’t actually as cute as I remembered. And maybe those green eyes and that strawberry blonde hair wasn’t as intoxicating as my mind kept telling me it was. And maybe the energy that I thought flowed between us like a magnet, drawing us together when the forces around us kept trying to keep us apart, didn’t actually exist.

  So it was time for me to accept the facts for what they were. As a promise to myself in an attempt to move on, I deleted all the dating app profiles I’d created when looking for Thad. If he didn’t want to be found, I wouldn’t keep searching for him.

  It’d been a few weeks since my birthday, and it was time to get on with my life. Wallowing in misery over what could have been would get me nowhere. I had four more weeks of tax season to survive and then maybe I’d get back on the horse and see who I could find out there.

  I made it through the busiest time of the year in my profession, but that’s as far as I got in my plan to get back on the horse. I tried, I really did. But after a few nights out with the guys, it was painfully obvious that there were no good omegas left out there. The good ones were either straight or taken. Even a lot of the assholes were taken, which put me and my pathetic self into a whole new dimension of low.

  Danny did what he could. He made me go back to poker nights with him, and he dragged me to some singles mixers at his gym to see who we could find. But no matter who came on to me or what the mood of the event was, I still walked out of each place just as single as when I walked in. There were always a few cute omegas who tried to chat me up, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

  I wasn’t ever feeling it. Or anything.

  I was an alpha with physical and emotional needs in general, but I was able to focus my energy on work. And when that started to slow down, I took on some additional clients to keep myself distracted. And for the most part, it worked. I didn’t allow myself a lot of downtime to think about being lonely until the first note arrived.

  It was a small white notecard with a red heart stamped on one side and neat block letters printed on the other. I wouldn’t have even noticed it sticking out from underneath the doormat, but Danny dropped his keys after an impromptu karaoke night, and he found it hiding there. It wasn’t dated so I’m not sure how long it had been there, but it looked recent.

  Ren,

  I know our first meeting wasn’t perfect, but I’ve been thinking about you. Is it wrong for me to hope you’ve been thinking about me too?

  Love,

  T. H.

  As soon as I read the message, my heart started racing. He found me. It took some time, but Thad found me. I ran down to the street as if he might still be waiting right outside, but he wasn’t.

  Obviously.

  And he didn’t leave any contact information.

  Again.

  But he knew where to find me, and he was interested. Those two facts had me practically floating on air as I went back to up my apartment.

  Thad was interested!

  “Two slices or three?” Danny was holding a paper plate in his hand and waiting for me to respond.

  “Two.” I wasn’t that hungry. I saw a guy walking out of a bookstore who looked exactly like Thad earlier that day, but by the time I was able to pull over and park, he was gone. I’m sure it wasn’t him, but it reminded me of the fact that it’d been almost a month since that note and there had been no contact from him at all.

  “Why do you look like your dog just died?” Danny passed the plate of pizza to me then dropped onto the sofa beside me.

  “Just in a funk.” I picked up a slice and stared at it, willing myself to take a bite.

  “This isn’t about Thad, is it?”

  I hung my head, ashamed of how pathetic I’d become over a guy I barely knew and who didn’t seem to want to get to know me. “Maybe.”

  “Ren, buddy.” He slapped my shoulder as if that could make me snap out of it. “You’ve spent way to long hung up on this guy. It’s time to forget about him.”

  I nodded, knowing he was right. “I guess.”

  “Well, I know.” He scooted back to his side of the couch and snatched the remote. “Let’s watch some omega porn so you can get some new faces burned into that pretty little brain of yours.”

  Watching porn with my best friend wasn’t as weird as it sounded. We’d done it a hundred times before and would probably do it a hundred more times before we died. But it didn’t have the effect Danny had in mind. It did get my mind off my sadness, so that part worked. But it didn’t get my mind off Thad.

  Not in the least.

  In fact, when I finally called it a night and went to my room with a steel dick standing straight up in my sweats, the only face I could picture as I stroked myself, fucking my fist until my knot blew and I shot ribbons of come all over my chest, was a certain ginger with lips that were meant to be wrapped around my cock.

  Yeah, I wasn’t quite over him yet, but I’d get there.

  Eventually.

  Probably.

  8

  Thad

  It was official, dating apps were for the birds. Sure, I got enough dick pics to wallpaper my living room, and I didn’t really hate that—not most of them anyway. There were a few that had more jewelry than a mall kiosk, which had me feeling sympathy
pain—those I could do without. And there was the one guy who thought I might be interested in a picture of him being sounded but...nope. I worked in a hospital and just...nope. It just made me think of sick people not sexy times.

  The worst part about the app was losing hours to a search for Ren, which was all kinds of dumb since he obviously didn’t want to be found. I still kept thinking about the stranger who saved me on my birthday.

  I kept my account up, just in case. But after I told myself I’d completely given up, the foot pictures started popping up. Okay dick pics might not be for everyone, but really—feet? Not the courtship I was looking for. Not that I was looking for one at all with the way I kept rejecting requests. I was never listening to Joaquim about dating again.

  Probably.

  “Did you get any good ass shots today?” Joaquim walked into the break room, catching me checking my blasted phone. Again.

  “Only once did I get a decent ass. Mostly I get dicks. But if you want to see my most recent, here.” I handed him my phone with some giant foot with sparkly toes displayed. So not my cuppa.

  “What did you put in your profile to warrant that?” He tossed me my phone, barely containing his laughter.

  “Not a clue.” I deleted the picture before putting away my phone. “Hey, you’re getting off work now, right?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?” He opened his locker and started rifling through it as I changed out of my scrubs into jeans and a t-shirt. My laptop had gone and died, and I needed to get a new one, which was pretty much one of my least favorite activities.

  “Do you need to get back home?” I looked up, giving him my best puppy dog eyes as he pulled his t-shirt on.

 

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