His Professor Omega: M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG (Cafe Om Book 7)
Page 2
Liars.
That was five years ago, and since that time, I’d worked my tail off to infuse more activism into my curriculum without breaking the guidelines set before me. I might not have been able to help poor Professor Miller, but I could make sure those students who left my classes would see the injustice in such situations and give them the resources to fight them as they entered the workforce.
And here I was facing the same consequence as Miller, yet unlike him, I had a leg to stand on. I was tenured, and the other person involved was not a student. Why couldn’t I feel confident in that?
I planted both hands on my desk and stood up. It was time. Maybe giving me twelve hours’ notice was better—less time for the stress to settle in and take over. Maybe it was better for the baby, my baby.
As I made my way to the conference room where my fate would be decided, memories of pretending to walk the plank at the community swimming pool as a kid sprung to mind. Those were the good times, when no one knew if they were an alpha, beta, or omega. We were just kids. Equals, as it were. Now that was no longer the case, which was never more obvious than when I walked into that conference room.
Silly me had expected it to be just the review board, but the room was packed. There was one solitary chair open, presumably for me. Given that I was ten minutes early, the only conclusion I could draw from this was that they had a pre-meeting with far more people than should be involved in a case of this nature.
“I'm sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize the room was being used. I’m scheduled for a meeting next hour.” We all knew that wasn’t what was happening, but if nothing else, I could increase their discomfort at their behavior.
“We’re glad you’re early,” Mr. Gates, the review board chair lied, sweat already trickling along his brow. At least he had the decency not to look smug, unlike the rest of the room. “You are the last to arrive.”
“I apologize for keeping you waiting. There must be a misprint on my letter,” I quipped as if we were discussing a fundraiser as opposed to what was now clearly my termination hearing. I took the empty seat and slapped on my best you-can’t-break-me face.
“Do you know why you’re here, Professor Crawford?” Mr. Gates’ voice wobbled slightly.
“Because I was summoned, sir.” I might be going down, but that didn’t mean I had to take it like a good little omega.
I looked at all the faces in the room. There was the review board, which was the norm in any case of discipline I’d known about. There were a couple of professors, which I gathered were there as some kind of witnesses or possibly the people who’d complained about my condition. Not that one person had ever even asked me about it, save my assistant who was just as over the moon happy about the baby as I was, and a few random students commenting on my weight in failed attempts at humor.
The religious advisor and chancellor of the university, however, were the surprising additions to the room. This wasn’t going to be one of those hush hushed situations the university was infamous for. They wanted people to know. Interesting.
“And why do think that might be?” The chancellor cut into Mr. Gates’ line of questioning. His voice already conveying the agitation his face was hiding. Good.
“To discuss matters of an unsavory nature. At least that’s what I gathered from the tone of my letter, sir.” I plastered on a smile. They might hold all the cards, but I wasn’t going to fold just yet. Nope. My last class had already ended for the day. I could and might possibly drag this out all night.
“We are here to discuss your pregnancy.” Father Victor didn’t hide his disdain of the word pregnancy. It boggled my mind how easily I was able to get them so riled up. Tapes of the pre-meeting would have been fascinating to study, if they did in fact tape it as protocol dictated. I snuck a glance at the wall where the record light flashed green. It was on now, for what that was worth.
“A miracle to be sure, considering my age.” I rubbed my belly for all to see. “What a blessing. God is good.” Sometimes throwing their words at them was just plain fun.
“It is far from a blessing when a professor makes such morally bankrupt decisions, Professor Crawford,” Chancellor Lyon snapped. How that man hadn’t already had a heart attack was a mystery.
“Having a child is morally bankrupt, sir?” I quirked my head, very much playing the role of confused omega because fuck it, my job was already toast. “How so? It is how we all came to be, so I find this conjecture fascinating.” I rubbed my chin where my newly grown beard now sat.
“You are not married.”
“You are not mated.”
I didn’t even see who was speaking from the peanut gallery. It was of no concern. The truth of the matter was, I was pregnant, and I wasn’t tied to the father by any of the methods they felt appropriate. For that reason, they had already concluded I was unfit to teach there. If they only knew that it was a one-night stand with an alpha young enough to be my student, whose last name I never got, and who I was never able to find again.
But not for a lack of trying. When I first discovered my pregnancy, I stalked that Cafe Om like nobody’s business. Coop had a right to know about his child, and it might have been a one-night fling with a questionable condom and no last names, but I felt in my gut that he would’ve wanted to be part of his child’s life.
I had no delusion that he would mate me and make all my omega dreams come true. Shit, I didn’t even hold on to that happily ever after, find your forever alpha malarkey. It was one of the reasons I only dated betas or an occasional omega. I knew the harsh reality of being an omega more than most, thanks to years of research.
And then I met him, Coop, and all that fell to the wayside. I wanted him in a way I never wanted anyone before, and for the first time, I saw what the fuss was about pertaining to knotting. Sure, the evening had consequences, all but one bad, but I wouldn’t change what happened. I’d have made sure to get his full name or number but not the magic that was our connection. A connection so strong that it still surprised me on occasion that he didn’t show up at my place again. Or maybe that was just me projecting my desires.
“And neither are you, Mr. Smithe.” I pointed to his ring finger, which was just as empty as mine. “Do you have a point?”
“You are having a child,” Mr. Helmker, one of the longest seated member of the review board, piped in. Like he was one to talk. He had been cheating on his mate for years and flaunted it around, but he was part of the alpha club where that was all overlooked.
“As do you, Mr. Helmker.” And with more than one woman but going low wasn’t how I wanted to play this. “Are we doing one of those touchy-feely ice breaker things you like so much?”
“You had sexual relations outside of marriage.” Father Victor stumbled on the term sexual relations, his face brightening, and I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment at having to point out his concern or anger at my making him do so. Both options were oddly satisfying.
“If I were a betting man, which of course I’m not because that would be—how did you put it—ah yes, morally bankrupt.” I met Mr. Gates’ eyes. “But if I was, I’d bet that I am far from alone in that.”
The uncomfortable squirming of all but Father Victor, who instead decided to feign shock, amused me. Of course, most, if not all of them, had. Sexuality was part of who we were. Even Father ‘I’m so moral and perfect’ Victor wasn’t immune, as much as he probably wished it were so.
“Enough of this. Professor Ashton Crawford, you are here under violation of the moral turpitude clause of your contract for having promiscuous sex outside the sanctity of marriage which resulted in a pregnancy.” Chancellor Lyon stood, slapping the table as he did so. “How do you plead?”
“Promiscuous sex?” I asked, enjoying his loss of temper far more than I should. “Please define the term.”
“You had sex outside of marriage.”
“So the promiscuous bit is designed for redundancy or is it there to skew the voting members?” He
should know me well enough by now to know he wasn’t going to get away with those tactics. True, everyone in the room had already heard him and many probably felt the same way he did, but I was one for choosing battles, and this one seemed to be worth it. Who knew, maybe I might even be able to educate one of these people along the way. “Just trying to make sure I understand what you’re saying. You understand.”
He so did not understand, but as he was the only one standing and all eyes were on him, he gave a subtle nod before taking his seat and regaining his composure.
“We can remove said term from the official document.” The man grabbed his pen and wrote a line across his part of his paper. I was going to call that a win. “How do you plead? It’s not like you can hide your condition any longer.”
Why he felt the need to warn me away from lying was beside me. What did he expect me to say, “I discovered this new bagel place, you must try it. But be careful—it’s addictive,” while patting my belly.
“You can’t plead to pregnancy. Pregnancy is a medical condition.”
Someone grumbled behind me about the time. Oh well. If they were going to strip the livelihood from a pregnant omega out of self-righteousness, they could waste away an afternoon.
“Are we going to split hairs all day?” one of my colleagues who truly had no business even being there asked.
“I imagine so,” I answered before turning back to the chancellor. “Shall we get to it?”
Four hours later, we emerged from the conference room. It boggled my mind how they could still underestimate me after all these years. I had been brought before Congress for goodness sakes, they certainly wouldn’t break me. I, on the other hand, could break them.
By the time I was done, I’d managed to not only push back my date of departure from immediately until the end of the semester when my resignation officially began, but I also left with a severance package—one year of medical coverage for both myself and my child and a sealed disciplinary file.
By the time I walked through my apartment door, I had a solid plan in place. Medical coverage for a year gave me time to figure out where I wanted to be full time, if that was even my goal. In the meantime, I would call my friend who worked at an Omega House in a far more progressive city than the one I currently resided in. Last time we talked, she’d mentioned how excited she was that her local university was starting an omega studies minor but was “sad” that it was staffed by mostly adjunct instructors and that she hoped I could “see it in my heart” to apply for the part time professor position that remained vacant.
As it turned out, all it took to put it in my heart was getting canned.
2
Coop
I was happy to be home. Really, I was. Being around my friends and family had always been important to me. But something felt different this time. Ever since coming home from my summer internship at StarX last year, I’d had a strange sense of discontent that never seemed to pass. At first, I thought it was just the stress of being back in school that had me always feeling uneasy. But I loved being in classes and working on research projects, so that didn’t make sense.
But when almost a year went by and I still felt incomplete, I’d started to wonder if maybe I was just over being in school. Maybe it was time for me to get into the working world full time. I loved my summer internship and even went back to the same company this summer to try to recreate the happiness I felt the first time I was there. But it wasn’t enough to pull me out of my funk. In fact, it might have made me feel even more...lost. I didn’t make a conscious decision to spend every evening sitting alone in that same Cafe Om, waiting for Ash to walk in so we could pick up where we left off the year earlier, but that’s how my summer went. And to my disappointment, he never showed up once during the three months I was there.
Maybe what was missing in my life was a career. Sure, I wanted to finish my degree to improve my chances of starting my career at a good place, but maybe I was just avoiding life by staying in school. I didn’t like admitting that I was nervous as fuck about getting out in the real world by myself. Once I left school, I’d officially be a self-sufficient adult, no longer relying on my mom or my professors or my grades to get by. That might not have been daunting if I were a beta or an omega, but as an alpha, I was expected to have my shit together. And the way I’d been feeling since coming back home was far from together. In fact, most of the time, I felt like a puzzle missing a few corner pieces. And I didn’t like it one bit.
“Why are you always such a downer these days?” Jax, one of my study partners, slid onto the open chair beside me and put a basket of fries between us. “You’re like a grumpy old man.”
“I feel like a grumpy old man most of the time.” I grabbed a fry from the basket and tossed it into my mouth. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the gym?”
“I wasn’t feeling it today.” Jax glanced around the cafe we often studied at between classes as if he was looking for someone. “Besides, Christy said some hot new professor comes in for lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I want to check him out.”
“Of course you do.” I glanced around the room to see if there were any new faces. Nope. Just the same students and teachers I’d been seeing for the past few weeks since classes started up again. “An omega?”
Jax only dated omegas because he wanted to have a family sooner rather than later. I understood the alpha instinct to procreate, but I hadn’t really felt it yet. Which was good since I was in such a weird headspace and didn’t need any more things to worry about.
“Obviously.” Jax rubbed his palms together like he was about to throw a pair of dice onto a craps table. “And he’s older. Mature and hot are the words Christy used. The perfect combination.”
Thinking of a mature and hot omega took me back to that night almost one year ago when I had the best sex of my life. The memory that would have to keep me warm at night until I eventually found an omega of my own. The uneasy feeling in my gut was back and suddenly the fry I was chewing tasted like sawdust.
“Good luck with that, man.” I picked up my phone and flipped through the news, checking out what was going on in the world. I usually avoided the news because it was depressing or just pissed me off. And since I’d been in a depressed and pissed off funk for the past year on my own, I really didn’t need to add fuel to that fire.
“Oh, before I forget, I’m supposed to invite you to my place tomorrow for game night.” Jax angled his chair toward the door so he’d have a perfect view of his mystery professor when he walked in. “Christy asked for you specifically.”
“She knows I’m not into women, right?” Christy was Jax’s roommate, and she’d been trying to convert me to hetero since we met at Jax’s Christmas party. She was a beautiful girl with a great personality, but she wasn’t my type and never would be. Besides, even if she were a dude, at twenty-three, she was way too young. I was more interested in older men. Particularly older men with just a sprinkle of white around the temple and ocean blue eyes that begged me to knot them.
“Hello?” Jax snapped his fingers in front of my face. “I’m starting to think I bore you by the frequency in which you zone out on me.”
His frown made me feel like a shitty friend. “Sorry, Jax. It’s not you. I was just thinking about someone.” Oh shit. Please let him have missed that word and move on.
“Someone?” Jax clasped his hands together on the table and leaned forward so he wouldn’t miss a word of what he hoped I’d be telling him. “Who? Since when is there a someone you’re thinking about?”
“I meant, something. Not someone.” I wasn’t a great liar when I was put on the spot. Given time to come up with a story, I could lie my way out of just about anything. But Jax knew my tells and wasn’t going to fall for any of my bullshit.
He just shook his head with a small smirk. “Nope. Try again.”
I threw my head back and closed my eyes, considering whether or not it was worth mentioning Ash after all
this time. Jax would probably be hurt that I didn’t mention my one-night stand sooner. Hell, it’d been a whole year. But I kept holding out hope that I’d run into him when I went back to the city for my internship. When that didn’t happen, I just turned inward and figured Ash would be a secret I took to my death. And that shit had to stop. Whatever was wrong with me wasn’t getting better on its own. Maybe talking it out with someone I trusted would help me figure out whatever the hell was wrong with me.
“It’s not really a big deal.” I picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup just for something to do. “I hooked up with some guy right before I left the city last year. I only spent one night with him, but I keep comparing every guy I meet to him.”
“How have you not mentioned this sooner?” Jax shoved my arm playfully. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me.”
“I’m not holding out anything. There’s nothing to tell. We spent one night together, and then I moved back home. The end.”
Jax furrowed his brows, just as confused by my non-story as I was. “I don’t get it. What’s the issue then?”
I held up my hands in frustration too. “I don’t know. I just haven’t been...right...since then. I don’t know if it’s about him or the job or the city or school. I just know that’s when I started feeling this weird pseudo depression. And when you brought up the mature and hot professor, that made me think of Ash.”
“Ash?” Jax’s eyes bulged out. “His name is Ash. Even hotter.”
I smiled with a distant look in my eyes, wondering what Ash was doing right at that moment. Probably eating a sandwich at some deli with his sexy boyfriend...or worse, his mate. Just the idea of Ash being mated by now turned my stomach again. I pushed my chair back and stood up. “I’m gonna get outta here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait.” Jax reached for my hand to hold me in place. “Aren’t you going to wait to see the new professor? Maybe he’ll be even better than your Ash and can help you forget all about the one that got away.”