Last week, after Brad had convinced him, Ian had added Brad to the list of people who could fetch Gwen from the childcare center. It had felt strange at first, stepping into the place, collecting his kid. Brad wasn’t sure if the teachers there even knew who he was, but maybe it didn’t matter. He was Gwen’s dad.
“Goodnight, Gwen,” the teacher manning the logbook said. He had graying auburn hair in a French braid, and a tired smile on his face—his nametag read Dale.
“Night night, Mr. Dale,” Gwen said, waving at him. “I hope Phil gets better soon.”
“Thank you,” Dale said, cracking a smile.
Brad headed to the door, holding it open for Gwen.
They crossed the parking lot to Brad’s car, Gwen hopping across the asphalt, her pigtails swinging. It was hard to imagine she still needed another surgery—but Ian had looked so weary at the thought of the hospital visits, that Brad took care to watch Gwen. From what he’d read of heart surgeries, the chances of complications weren’t so terrible.
What was to say that Gwen’s surgery would go perfectly, though?
It made him uneasy, knowing that Gwen’s life wasn’t a guaranteed thing.
“How was your day?” he asked, shoving the weight in his chest away.
“Exciting,” Gwen said, climbing into the passenger seat of Brad’s car. “We went to the playground. Phil fell down and broke his arm, so Mr. Dale had to call his husband to take Phil to the hospital.”
Brad frowned. “Dale didn’t call an ambulance?”
“Mr. Dale is Phil’s dad,” Gwen said. “So we got to see Mr. Dale’s husband. He’s young!”
“Yeah?” Brad perked up. “How young?”
“I don’t know. He looks like you.”
Well, that was interesting. There was at least a ten-year difference, if not twenty, between Brad and Dale. Brad tapped on the steering wheel, pulling them out of the parking lot.
He’d thought about it sometimes, why Ian would want to stick around with an alpha like him. Brad was young. He didn’t have the wealth and status like older alphas had.
But it seemed as though those other relationships were working out—Harris’, and Dale’s, and maybe there might be hope for himself and Ian. Gods knew Brad wanted to prove himself, wanted to show Ian he could be just as good an alpha as any other.
“So do you want to stick with me and listen to some tunes, or do you want to go wait for your dad at the college?”
“Tunes!” Gwen smiled brightly. “Can I have a lollipop while I listen? Daddy says once a week, but that doesn’t include lollies from you, does it?”
Brad hesitated. It probably wasn’t a good idea, giving Gwen candy while Ian wasn’t around. “What about celery sticks?”
Gwen pouted. “You’re no fun!”
“What’s your favorite fruit, then?”
“Grapes,” Gwen said. “But only the green ones.”
“Let’s get you some grapes,” Brad said, changing lanes to make a left turn. “I don’t want to get into trouble with your dad.”
“Why? In case he doesn’t want to kiss you anymore?”
Brad paused. Then he decided there wasn’t any point hiding it, if he was hanging around long-term with Ian and Gwen. “Yeah. I want to stay on his good side so I get kisses.”
Gwen wrinkled her nose. “What’s so great about kisses? They’re gross.”
“But your dad kisses you too, doesn’t he?”
“Not on the mouth!” Gwen made a face. “I tried kissing Benjamin in class, his tongue is gross.” She retched.
Brad narrowed his eyes, something in his chest growling like a tiger. “Who is this Benjamin person?”
Gwen shrugged. “He has rabbit teeth. He picks his nose in class. I kind of like him.”
Brad hesitated. He needed to mention it to Ian before he said anything about kissing to Gwen. But all the same, he wasn’t sure he wanted some random kid touching his daughter. Didn’t sound right at all. “Look, stay away from that Benjamin kid, all right? He can’t be good for you.”
Gwen sniffed. “But you don’t know him! He rolls his snot into snot balls and sticks them back into his nose.”
How the fuck is that cute? Brad bit his tongue. “Well, don’t kiss him again.”
“I won’t,” Gwen said, shuddering. “You can have all the kisses in the world.”
“Good.” Brad pulled into the parking lot of the department store. “C’mon, let’s get you some grapes.”
They parked and crossed the asphalt, Gwen’s tiny hand in Brad’s.
He’d fetched Gwen from the childcare center before, but he’d always taken Gwen to the college. This was the first time Brad was spending any extended period of time alone with his daughter.
He texted Ian their location, and how long they’d be staying for. His phone buzzed almost immediately.
Thank you, Ian said. I hope she doesn’t give you too much trouble.
“Your dad said not to give me any trouble,” Brad told Gwen, grinning. “Do you give him cheek?”
“No!” Gwen smiled, looking down in thought. “Well, maybe. When he’s happy.”
Brad stared at her, his smile fading. Had Gwen seen Ian at his worst? She had, hadn’t she? I should’ve been there. Shouldn’t have let him get to that point. “What does he do when he’s not happy?”
“He doesn’t care about me when he’s in a mood,” Gwen said, her eyes downcast. “He locks himself in the bathroom.”
That was probably when he did the cutting. It couldn’t be good for either of them, Ian trying to cope like that. Even though Ian didn’t want Gwen to know what he was doing, she still knew he was locking himself away.
How was Brad going help?
“If you see him locking himself in the bathroom, will you text me?” Brad asked. “Just tell me your dad’s in there. You don’t need to tell me if he’s pissing. I’ll give you my number.”
Gwen wrinkled her nose, but she nodded. “Okay.”
They stepped into the department store, heading to the produce section. Brad grabbed a box of green grapes, handing it to Gwen. “This okay?”
She turned it over in her hands. “Mm-hm.”
“Want anything else?”
Gwen shook her head.
“What about your dad? What does he get when you guys go to the store? Or, wait. I’ve got a better question. What does your dad always look at, but he doesn’t buy?”
Gwen chewed on her lip, glancing around. “That’s the butter cookies.”
“Yeah?” Brad turned her to the cookie section. “You know which ones?”
Gwen scanned the shelves. Then she pointed to a navy-blue tin printed with an assortment of cookies. “Those!”
The Danish cookies were a good choice. Kind of pricey. Brad remembered Ian’s shadowed eyes, the way his shoulders had sagged when he’d talked about the debt. He couldn’t imagine Ian had spent much at all on the things he liked, with how little he thought of himself.
“What soap does he like?” Brad asked.
Gwen shrugged. Brad took them on a detour to the household goods section. He’d noticed that the soaps at Ian’s place were harsh, bad on his skin. Gwen had better soap and shampoo, though.
So Brad picked out a moisturizing soap, a brand his mom had liked when she’d been around. Brad picked a different scent, though—lavender, so hopefully Ian would find it comforting.
“Right, anything else?” Brad glanced at Gwen.
She shook her head, so he steered them through the cashier’s stand. Brad paid for the things, then took Gwen into the store’s restroom. He had Gwen hold the soap and cookies while he rinsed the grapes under the bathroom faucet.
“I’ve never been here,” Gwen said, peering around the alphas’ restroom. The walls were a pale green, and tiled. There were some urinals, some bathroom stalls. The place smelled like a mix of woodsy scents—all alpha. “Daddy always brings me to the omegas’ restroom.”
“Yeah? Is it much different?” Brad asked.
>
“It’s not as nice,” Gwen said. “There’s less mirrors there.”
“Fewer mirrors,” Brad corrected her. “’Less’ is for things you can’t count, like sugar. ‘Fewer’ is for things you can count, like eggs. So tell me if these mirrors can be counted.”
Gwen chewed on her lip. “There’s five of them in the other bathroom.”
“So, fewer mirrors, or less mirrors?”
“Fewer,” Gwen said, looking questioningly at him.
“Great job,” Brad said, rustling her hair with his wet hand. “You learn quick!”
Gwen squealed. Brad shook the grapes dry, heading out of the restroom with her. “C’mon, let’s get you set up, and we’ll do half an hour of violin.”
“Okay,” she said, following him to the car.
He tucked the soap and cookies into the trunk, then handed Gwen a few wound-up cables. Hauled the speakers and amplifier to the side of the store, parking them under a bright streetlamp.
Brad pulled a stool out for Gwen, handed her a blanket from his trunk just in case she was cold. Then he gave her the grapes. By the time he’d gotten his equipment set up, it was seven, and kind of late.
I’ll be there soon, was Ian’s message on his phone.
Brad grinned. He answered Ok, then tucked his phone into his pocket. Couldn’t help the thrill of excitement in his chest, knowing he’d see Ian tonight. He wanted to see Ian smile, wanted to breathe in his rose-and-honey scent. Feel Ian’s lean body against his own.
“Do you wanna hear any song in particular?” Brad asked. “I don’t know them all, but I’ll try.”
“Stars in the Sky,” Gwen said with a little wriggle. “That’s our favorite song.”
“’Our’? You mean, you and your dad?” Brad had heard that song before. In fact, he’d spent weeks adapting it to his own violin, playing it a number of times while he was out busking.
“Mm-hm.” Gwen hummed the tune, popping a grape into her mouth.
So Brad began to play along to her humming. She set the tempo, and Brad followed wherever she took the music.
Gwen was a lot better than he’d anticipated. She was bright, and charming, and Brad could see why Ian cared so much about her. To the extent that Ian would skimp on himself, but give everything he had to Gwen.
He was looking at Ian’s most precious person, and somehow, Brad knew what Ian felt toward her—so much love, and devotion, and maybe he was envious of her now, too. He wanted a little bit of that from Ian. Wanted Ian to look at him the same way, with love in his eyes.
Brad swallowed his yearning, dragging his bow across the strings. He said with his music what he couldn’t put into words—longing, desire, a craving for an omega he wanted to call his own.
His omega was out there somewhere, and Brad was waiting for him.
12
Ian
Ian glanced at the pile of envelopes on his desk, his heart heavy.
He didn’t want to open the mail. There were too many familiar logos—the insurance company, the landlord, three different credit card companies.
All of them wanted for money, and Ian knew his bank balance was hardly enough.
It felt like he was drowning, every time he had to deal with his finances.
He lifted his heavy arms, blinking wearily. It didn’t help that the pregnancy fatigue had begun to descend on him. He could barely move, much less speak, and he couldn’t find the strength to even leave the office.
When he looked up at the clock, it felt as though the second hand was racing by, and the world was moving on without him.
Ian slid the letter opener through the envelopes, one at a time. No pleasantries on any of these bills—just cold, hard numbers, and a date he had to pay them by. There had been a couple times he’d missed the deadlines, and a crippling interest had been added to his total owed.
If Brad knew the true horrors of Ian’s debt, he’d probably leave. Gods knew Ian would; he never wanted to be in debt again.
He glanced at his checkbook, then his pen. Tried to figure how much he wanted to pay now, and how much he needed to hold back so he and Gwen could afford to eat.
Why can’t I be a better dad?
Ian pushed his thumb onto the pointed tip of the letter opener, grounding himself in the pain. It was easier to think about the pain, than the debt.
He waited until blood trickled down his palm, then dabbed it dry on a tissue. Glanced at his phone.
Brad had sent a text. We’re waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to head down.
Ian thought about going up to Brad and saying, I can’t deal with this anymore. Maybe he should, so he’d know for once and all that Brad would leave.
Ian sank against his desk, pressing his forehead onto the bills. He didn’t know what to do, or how to get rid of his debt. A second job wouldn’t work out, not when Gwen was still so young.
He sat there for a moment, thinking about the time he’d gone to his parents’ home, telling them about Gwen’s heart defect.
She’s a defect like you, Ian’s mom had said. She’d frowned down her nose at him, even though she’d been lenient with his brothers.
He was her eldest child. Somehow, all he remembered was his mom denying everything he wanted, from as early as he could remember. There had been the cookies he’d wanted, that she’d given Ian’s brothers. There had been the rag doll on the shelf he’d stared at, and it had ended up in his sister’s birthday present.
Tell me you love me, he’d said to her when he was seven.
She’d frowned. Then she’d slapped him, and said, I love you.
He’d cried, and she’d slapped him harder, until he was alone in his room and sobbing, and she’d never once given him a hug after.
Growing up, he’d tried to do right by her. Tried to give her things, tried to fix her problems. Everyone had good parents, right? It seemed as though everyone’s families were perfect, and Ian’s was broken, somehow. And no one understood why he never wanted to return home after school.
Slowly, he pried himself off the desk. Made himself pay the bills with the worst penalties. The rest could be seen to later. Somehow.
Ian dropped the bills and envelopes into his bag, feeling raw. He shut down his computer, tucked his bag under his arm, and locked his office door.
He got himself all the way to the parking lot, his bones aching, his head heavy. Ian breathed in deep, then started his car, driving out of the college. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to forget about everything, so he could float off into bliss somewhere. He had to be responsible for Gwen, though.
He wound down the window on the way to the department store. Across the store’s parking lot, he glimpsed Brad and Gwen on the corner, Brad moving to his music, Gwen sitting on a stool, listening to him.
Maybe Brad would make a better father than Ian did.
Ian sniffled. He turned into the parking lot, the cool night air whispering across his skin, Brad’s electric violin notes sliding slow and sweet into Ian’s ears.
Brad was playing that song. The one Ian had listened to on the radio with Gwen, and they’d sung along to it for as long as it broadcasted.
Take me somewhere far away
Take me to a land of joy, or tell me you’re here to stay
Ian pulled into an empty lot a short distance from them, parked, and cut the engine. He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel, closing his eyes.
He clung to the soaring notes of Brad’s music, listening as it dipped and rose, a familiar tune made more complex under Brad’s fingers. Ian focused on the music, and let go of his other troubles. Just listened to Brad, his heart aching, his body too weak to move.
Slowly, he remembered better times, times when he’d laughed with Gwen, times when they’d pitched a tent in the middle of the living room and pretended they were out camping.
The weight in Ian’s chest eased. He breathed out, the tangle of his troubles slowly unfurling from around his heart.
By filling his body with Br
ad’s music, it felt as though he was slowly healing.
When the music finally stopped, a faraway voice murmured. Then there was nothing, until footsteps approached the car. A warm hand touched Ian’s nape. Ian jumped, startled.
“What…?” He looked up.
Brad frowned at him. Then he reached in through the window with his other hand, brushing his callused thumb across Ian’s cheek. “You were crying?”
Ian swallowed. Swiped off his tears. “I guess I was.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“That’s bullshit, McMillan,” Brad said. Ian flinched, but Brad leaned in through the window. He pressed his lips to Ian’s forehead, sliding his fingers through Ian’s hair. Brushed his wrists down Ian’s neck, across his shoulders, down his chest, marking him with walnut. “I’m your alpha. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Are you sure you’re my alpha?” Ian asked, but he was leaning in, filling his lungs with Brad’s scent.
It felt good, having Brad’s marking on him again. Felt like Ian belonged.
Then Brad retreated through the car window, and Ian couldn’t help whining. He felt far too needy right now.
To his surprise, Brad fumbled with the door handle on the inside, opening the door. “C’mon out,” Brad murmured. “Gwen’s waiting with my things.”
Ian looked at the asphalt outside the car, his legs too heavy. “I don’t know if I can. I’m really tired.”
He would do anything for Gwen, though. Slowly, Ian leaned his weight forward. Brad reached under Ian’s knees, scooping him out of the car.
Ian yelped. “What’re you doing?”
“Helping you out.” Brad set Ian on his feet. Then he leaned in, kissed Ian slow and deep, and Ian sank against Brad, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Ew,” Gwen yelled across the road.
Brad snorted, but his lips were moving against Ian’s, nipping at him. “Missed you,” Brad whispered. “What happened?”
Ian shrugged. Realized Brad was too close see it. “Just—just the bills.”
“I’ll pay them,” Brad said.
Omega Teacher’s Secret Page 12
