Omega Teacher’s Secret

by Anna Wineheart

  Brad stared, his throat working. “Hey.”

  His voice was rough, like he hadn’t spoken to anyone all morning. It sent a shiver down Ian’s spine, much like Brad’s music had. Hard to forget that voice in his ear.

  “Who’s that, Daddy?” Gwen asked.

  Ian fought down a groan. It wasn’t as though he could hide his relationship with Gwen, now that Brad had seen her.

  “’Daddy’?” Brad echoed, his gaze sharpening with betrayal. “I thought… you said you didn’t have an alpha.”

  Ian’s chest tightened. He hadn’t meant for Brad to misunderstand. “I don’t. This is my daughter, Gwen. Hon, this is Brad. Say hi to him.”

  Gwen waved shyly. Brad stared at her, and there was a maelstrom of emotions in his eyes that Ian couldn’t pick apart. He didn’t know if he wanted to. He could hardly breathe, with how Brad was looking at him like he wanted something. Answers, maybe.

  It wasn’t like they owed each other, though. They’d never been a couple. Just acquaintances.

  “How come your violin has a wire?” Gwen asked.

  Ian closed his eyes, wishing he’d never stopped to look at Brad at all.

  “It’s called a cord—that’s because it’s an electric violin,” Brad said with all the patience in the world. Ian couldn’t help cracking his eyes open.

  Brad took a step closer, his gaze heavy on Ian. Then he knelt before Gwen, lifting the violin away from his chin. “See the way it connects to the amplifiers? When you play on one of these, the sound comes from the speakers, instead of the strings like a regular violin.”

  Brad disconnected the cord, dragging the bow across his strings.

  Gwen stared. “There’s no sound!”

  “Nope.” Brad reconnected the cable and played a chord. This time, the notes rang, bright and cheerful.

  Gwen stared at the speakers, then the violin, absorbing the information.

  “How old are you?” Brad asked before Ian could stop him.

  “Six.” Gwen beamed. “My birthday’s in February.”

  Brad narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to figure when she had been conceived. In another few seconds, he’d realize who she was.

  Ian panicked, tugging Gwen away. Can’t let him find out. “C’mon, hon. Time to go. Say bye to—to Brad!”

  Brad glanced up. “Wait.”

  Ian kept walking, his heart thundering, praying Brad hadn’t already deduced the answer.

  “Ian,” Brad said.

  Ian’s heart stumbled, and he tripped. Lurched forward. He flailed, releasing Gwen’s hand so he didn’t drag her down. No time to save himself.

  “Daddy!” Gwen yelped.

  Ian hit the concrete with a thump, pain jolting through his hands and knees. “Ow, fuc—fudge.”

  Gwen hurried forward, peering worriedly at him.

  Somewhere behind, Brad swore, his footsteps thumping closer. Then he crouched next to Ian, wrapping strong arms around Ian’s chest, pulling him upright. “You okay?”

  His breath puffed warm on Ian’s ear, and Ian shivered. Brad felt better than he’d expected.

  Brad took Ian’s stinging hands, rubbing the heels of his palms. Then he squeezed down the length of Ian’s forearms, watching Ian’s face. “Anything hurt?”

  Ian shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  “Just checking. I’ve seen my share of injuries.” A shadow flitted through Brad’s eyes.

  It made Ian wonder what Brad had seen. They weren’t close enough for him to ask, though. At least, Ian was trying to keep him at arm’s length.

  “I didn’t know we were on first name terms,” he muttered, brushing off his hands. “Really, Brad?”

  “It’s the First Name attack,” Brad said, smiling wryly. “Haven’t you heard of it?”

  “It’s super effective,” Gwen said.

  Brad laughed, the sound curling into Ian’s ears. “You’re a cool kid, Gwen. Have you been playing video games?”

  Gwen beamed. “I’ve got lots! And I got some new ones today.”

  “That’s right—it’s Christmas. I almost forgot.” Brad glanced at Ian, his smile fading.

  Ian leaned away, realizing too late that Brad’s arms were still around him, his palm stroking down Ian’s side. His warmth soaked into Ian’s shirt, and it was comforting, breathing in Brad’s familiar walnut scent.

  Ian shouldn’t be sitting on the sidewalk in Brad’s arms, but he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

  “You never told me,” Brad murmured, soft enough that only Ian heard. “I didn’t know you have a daughter.”

  Ian gulped. Why would you care? “You should be free to hunt down the next notch on your belt. No need to hang on to me.”

  Instead, Brad leaned in, brushing his nose against Ian’s ear. “I told you, I’m not interested in anyone else.” Then he paused, his nostrils flaring. “You smell sweet.”

  Shit. Ian grimaced, turning away. “Look, I have to go.”

  “You know what you smell like,” Brad said, his eyes growing sharp.

  Ian couldn’t meet his gaze. Why can’t I stop fucking up?

  “Is it mine?” Brad asked, hesitating. “We didn’t use a…”

  “I don’t know, all right? I just found out this morning.” Ian clambered to his feet, easing out of Brad’s arms. He was the one who had messed up with his heat. Shouldn’t drag Brad into it.

  “Did you sleep with anyone else?”

  “Daddy sleeps with me,” Gwen said brightly. “There’s only one bed at home.”

  Ian wanted to crawl into a hole, and never show his face again. Brad’s stare burned into the side of his head.

  “I really have to go,” Ian said, brushing the dirt off his clothes. “C’mon, Gwen.”

  “Wait,” Brad said, catching Ian’s hand. “You have plans today?”

  When Ian looked up, Brad was studying him, and Gwen. And Ian couldn’t help hesitating, because Brad had been incredible with Gwen. Just the few minutes they’d spent together… Ian wanted to see more. Wanted to know if Gwen would feel better if she had an alpha dad, too.

  I shouldn’t. It’s not like he asked to be her dad.

  But the fact remained that Brad was Gwen’s father. He deserved to spend time with her, even if he didn’t know who she was. Ian squirmed. “Are you trying to ask me out?”

  Brad gave a lopsided grin. “I’m asking if both of you want to go out to dinner. Wait, there’s only you two, right?”

  Three, now.

  Ian hesitated, sorely tempted. Not having to cook, or pay for dinner… It was a load off his shoulders. And maybe Gwen could get something really nice, for once. “Would it be a treat?”

  Brad shrugged. “Yeah, I’m paying.”

  Little by little, Ian’s resolve crumbled. He looked at Gwen. “Want to go out to dinner with Brad?”

  “Will there be roast turkey?” She looked up hopefully. Ian wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh, or cry.

  Brad chuckled. “That’s it? Whether there’s turkey?”

  “Mm-hm.” Gwen nodded, bobbing on her feet. “I like turkey.”

  Ian sagged. He imagined his life governed entirely by his daughter’s decisions. Maybe it would be better than how it was now. “Sure,” he said. “We’ll take you up on it.”

  And Brad’s eyes burned into him, like he was planning for more than dinner. Ian shivered. He shouldn’t respond to Brad that way. He shouldn’t be this hungry for someone he couldn’t have.

  “5PM sound good?” Brad asked. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a name card. Then he handed it to Ian. “Text me a place to meet, or where you want to go for dinner.”

  In fine, sleek print on the card: Brad Saxon, Violinist. Beneath that, Brad’s phone number.

  “Sure,” Ian said faintly. “I didn’t know you played the violin.”

  “Been doing this since I was nine.” Brad didn’t look away.

  Ian gulped. He turned to leave, and Brad caught his hand. He brushed his thumb across Ian’s pa
lm, rubbing right over the scent gland at Ian’s wrist.

  “See you later,” Brad murmured.

  He released Ian, and when Ian left for real this time, he felt the weight of Brad’s gaze on him, and the promise that hung between them, for later.

  5

  Brad

  Brad paced in front of the apartment building, straightening his tie. Couldn’t stop the nervous patter of his pulse, or the thoughts that whirled in his head.

  McMillan—Ian—had a daughter. He’d had a daughter for years, and Brad couldn’t get over that. How did I not know? Her name was Gwen. She was cute, fairly nice, and Brad kept going back to her age. Six years.

  He’d last seen Ian seven years ago. Subtracting nine months for the pregnancy… The numbers matched up.

  But it wasn’t as though Brad was the only person Ian could’ve slept with. For all Brad knew, Ian had gone to another alpha, maybe more.

  Maybe Gwen wasn’t Brad’s daughter—that was probably for the best. Ian wasn’t his. There was nothing going on between them.

  But if she was his daughter, and Ian was keeping secrets… what would Brad do?

  Or maybe Gwen wasn’t his. The fact remained that someone else might’ve had his professor. Somehow, that nugget of information lodged in Brad’s chest, carving a rut like a stone trapped against a brake disk.

  Then there was Ian’s honey scent—the unmistakable evidence that he was pregnant.

  Was it because we fucked last week? Is it someone else’s?

  If it were Brad’s… Brad wasn’t sure what to think of that. Sure, he’d fucked Ian. Sure, he’d gone home and jerked off, thinking about that night.

  He liked his professor, and he didn’t think there was going to be someone else he wanted more.

  But a child? Brad was young, he was still far too immature sometimes. Nothing about him screamed dad-material. Worse, what could Ian possibly see in him? What could Brad give a child that Ian couldn’t?

  He was a firefighter. In his spare time, he busked as a violinist on the streets.

  If that was Brad’s kid in Ian’s belly… He didn’t feel the least bit ready.

  The front door of the apartment building opened, and Ian stepped out. Gwen skipped next to him. She had deep red bows in her blond hair, and her plaid dress matched Ian’s shirt.

  And Ian… He looked stunning, with the maroon of his shirt bringing out the sea-blue of his eyes. A flush had spread across his high cheekbones, and Brad was aware that he was staring. Maybe his mouth was open.

  Ian met Brad’s gaze, his blush deepening. Then he glanced down Brad’s chest, to his hips, and back up. Brad realized he didn’t have to worry about the plain button-down shirt he’d picked. Ian still wanted him.

  Brad adjusted his collar. Thought about kissing his professor.

  He set the thought aside for later; maybe he’d have time after dinner. Or maybe there’d be mistletoes around in the restaurant, and—and now his heart was racing.

  Could’ve kicked himself for not checking if the restaurant had mistletoes.

  Gods, I’m desperate.

  His stomach flipped when Ian stepped up, a faint smile on his lips. “Gwen says she wants a turkey dinner,” Ian said. “I don’t think she’s talking about the kids’ menu.”

  Brad snorted. Whoever her other dad was, she had some balls. “Sure. Anything you want, kid.”

  Gwen frowned. “I’m not a kid.”

  Brad ruffled her hair, lightly so he didn’t mess up her ponytails. He thought Ian might protest, but strangely enough, Ian didn’t. “Fine, you’re a full-grown adult like the rest of us here.”

  Gwen beamed, and Ian laughed. “Way to win brownie points with her,” he said, his eyes sparkling. Brad’s mouth went dry.

  Brad had seen Ian McMillan in class, he’d seen Ian’s face twisted with pleasure. But Ian smiling with delight? That made Brad’s heart trip.

  Okay, so he still had that crush on his professor. He shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it. “C’mon, I made reservations. We don’t want to be late.”

  Ian brightened. “You made reservations?”

  “For three, yeah.”

  Ian sneaked a glance at Brad, then looked away, his smile growing wider. “You’re banned from winning brownie points,” he said.

  That was new. Brad raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said I could win brownie points with Gwen.”

  Ian bit down his smile. “I meant with me.”

  “All the more reason why I should win points,” Brad said. “Why can’t I?”

  “Because you’ll win them all,” Gwen said, throwing her arms into the air.

  “Gwen!” Ian tried to frown, but he was blushing and smiling. Brad realized he’d never been this excited about a Christmas dinner. Even if Ian’s daughter was tagging along.

  It wasn’t like they knew each other well. All Brad knew about McMillan was that he was lonely and tired, and he agreed easily when Brad tried to get into his pants.

  “I will win them all,” Brad said. “Just you watch.”

  Ian grinned. Brad led them to his car, pulling the doors open for him and Gwen.

  “You shouldn’t do this too often,” Ian said after he’d made sure Gwen had pulled on her seatbelt. “You’re spoiling us. Gwen will be wanting to spend every Christmas dinner with you.”

  “That a bad thing?” Brad met his eyes.

  Ian froze, blinking. Then he blushed. “Well, forget I said that.”

  “Why?”

  “You might have other plans next Christmas.” Ian shrugged, looking away. “I got ahead of myself. Sorry.”

  Brad clicked on his own seatbelt. Reached over, covering Ian’s hand with his own. “I’ll save my next Christmas dinner for you. And Gwen.”

  Ian laughed, disbelieving, but he didn’t protest. “Whatever you say.”

  Brad stroked Ian’s wrist again, smearing Ian’s rose scent on his own skin. It made his heart quicken, having Ian’s scent on him. He couldn’t have enough of it.

  The drive to the restaurant passed quickly. Gwen hummed in the backseat, and Ian glanced out the window, as though he were worried someone might see them together.

  Then they pulled into the parking lot of the Apex, and Ian sucked in a sharp breath.

  “This place?” he murmured, turning to look disbelievingly at Brad.

  “You didn’t tell me where you wanted to go for dinner.”

  “But…” Ian faltered, looking apprehensively at the steel-and-glass building to the side of the parking lot. “I can’t even imagine how much it costs. I’ve never been here, Brad, and I’ve spent most of my life in Meadowfall.”

  Brad shrugged. So this was a good choice, then. “Hey, if I get one chance to take you out for dinner, I’m not gonna waste it.”

  “Do they have turkey dinners?” Gwen whispered, peering out of the window.

  “Sure do,” Brad said.

  Ian grimaced. “I don’t even want to imagine how much that’ll cost.”

  Brad parked the car. Then he clicked off his seatbelt, reached over, and caught Ian’s chin. Ian stared wide-eyed at him, his throat working.

  “Talk about the price one more time,” Brad murmured, “and I’m gonna kiss you silent.”

  Ian flushed, gulped, and eased his chin out of Brad’s fingers. “I’ll shut up.”

  Brad thought about kissing him anyway. Figured maybe there might be an excuse to later.

  The Apex was the most expensive restaurant in Meadowfall. It had been built recently, and had acquired a reputation for itself. There were three levels to the restaurant—private rooms on the higher floors, and a large dining room, split into sections, on the first floor. Brad had visited the place a couple times with his parents, before his mom died.

  He jogged around the car hood, pulling the door open for Gwen. Didn’t reach Ian’s in time.

  Ian shook his head at Brad, the corners of his lips twitching. “I swear, Brad.”

  “Tell me that later,” Brad murmured, an
d Ian swallowed.

  At the entrance, a doorman pulled the doors open—the glass was flocked with fake snow, some in the shape of reindeer pulling sleighs.

  Brad watched as Ian and Gwen stepped through, gaping at the long, shallow ponds lining the main walkway. The ponds were lit from the inside with red and gold lights, and beneath the surface, carps glided.

  “Wow,” Gwen breathed, her eyes wide.

  Ian said nothing, but there was no missing the awe and hesitation in his eyes.

  Yeah, it was going to be expensive. But Brad had known that, making the reservation.

  “You like?” he asked, nudging Ian’s arm.

  Ian’s forehead wrinkled. “It looks—” Expensive.

  Brad leaned in and brushed their lips together, breathing in rose and honey. Ian’s lips were soft, a little chapped. He froze, staring at Brad.

  Brad’s heart pounded in his ears. Hadn’t thought he’d steal a kiss right here. He’d done it on impulse, and it felt right.

  He nodded up at the ceiling. “Mistletoe.”

  Ian followed his gaze. Then the blush on his cheeks darkened, and he glanced around them surreptitiously.

  There wasn’t anyone but the host waiting for them at the end of the pond-lined walkway, and Brad didn’t know the guy. So no one they knew had seen the kiss, and that was good.

  “Relax,” Brad murmured.

  “If your dad finds out—” Ian stopped whispering, looking at the floor. “We shouldn’t.”

  Not something Brad wanted to think about on Christmas. He slipped his hand into Ian’s. “I’ll deal with it.”

  Ian looked like he wanted to say more, but Brad squeezed his hand.

  “It’s Christmas,” Brad told him. “You gotta enjoy yourself once in a while.”

  After a moment, Ian relented. His shoulders relaxed, and he almost leaned into Brad. “Fine.”

  They made their way down the pond-lined path, Brad holding Ian’s hand, Gwen on Ian’s other side. Closer to the dining room, the restaurant smelled like stews and roasts and soup, and cutlery clinked.

  Brad told the host his name. They were led to a quiet booth on the first story of the restaurant, with frosted glass dividers separating them from the next tables.

  “Sorry it’s not a fancy private room,” Brad said dryly. “Maybe next time.”