A wave of heat swamps his cheeks. Felix ducks his head, hating how even his ears prickle. Has she noticed the bulge of his shirt? Is he that obvious now? “Thank you.”
He needs all her well wishes, when he hasn’t realized just how visible the baby bump is. No one had pointed it out, and maybe she’ll be the only one. But it tautens his nerves to know that his secret is so thinly veiled. Of course he hadn’t a chance of hiding it from Kade yesterday.
Another customer steps in—an alpha who smells like fir—and Felix frowns at the card reader, wishing it wouldn’t take an entire minute to process the transaction. By the time it flashes the approval notice, the man with the basket is in line, and the new alpha steps behind him.
“I’m sorry about the wait,” Felix says, handing the credit card back to the lady. “Have a great day!”
“Take care,” she says, and it feels like he’s losing a friend when she steps out the door.
The beta with the basket empties it carefully next to the register. Felix scans a variety of food—soda, beer, chips—and in the middle of checking his ID, someone else walks into the store.
He doesn’t realize it at first, when he smiles up at the beta, wondering at the rarity of lemongrass scents. “Here’s your ID back. I just have to get the rest of these scanned, so hang on...”
Until his skin prickles, and he looks up, meeting familiar mahogany eyes. His stomach swoops.
Who else could it be, but his bondmate standing just inside the door? Felix tenses. Kade is here. Kade is here, and fuck someone help me I don’t know what to do. I need to leave.
Behind him, Susan heaves a sigh.
Felix looks back down at the things on the counter, ignoring the alpha standing six feet off, watching him with his hands in his pockets. His belly tingles. Kade’s probably looking at his baby bump, thinking about how Felix betrayed him. Felix wants to die right here, melt into the floor, anything.
He fumbles with the soda bottles, realizing he doesn’t remember which he’s scanned. Fuck. He smiles up at the beta and taps on the register, doing his best to look apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to re-scan the things. The register messed up for a bit.”
Breathe. Keep breathing. Kade can’t do anything if you’re behind the counter.
But Felix also wants his alpha’s touch, and he can’t think right now, when Kade is still here. Kade watches as he scans the soda bottles again, then the beer, and approves the ID check. Why is he here? Does he want Felix to prove the baby’s parentage? Or does he want to tell Felix what a slut he is, or tell him to pack his things and leave Meadowfall, or—Felix’s ribs squeeze.
He sucks in lungfuls of air, his hands trembling as he accepts cash. He counts the notes under his breath, then the coins, and tucks them into the register drawer, waiting as the register spits out the receipt. Kade’s eyes are still on him.
“Thank you,” Felix chirps, handing the change and bag of things over, and everything about this is wrong, all over again.
Kade walks over, stepping behind the alpha in line, and he’s three feet away now. Felix’s stomach knots into a lump. He turns to Susan, but Susan’s checking the cigarette inventory, facing away from them both. Felix hates his life so much.
The alpha pays for a pack of beef jerky with his credit card, and the transaction takes another eon to process. Felix stares at the register, trying not to blink, trying to think about watercolor shades because he’s going to break if he looks at his bondmate. The seconds crawl by, like a tortoise stepping toward a busy road.
“Thank you,” Felix says again, handing the man his receipt. When the man leaves the counter, Kade steps forward.
Felix’s entire body creaks with how still he’s holding himself. He looks down at the counter, straightening the pens in their holder, checking the paper roll in the register, touching the damp sponge to see if it needs more water.
“Hey,” Kade says, and his voice rumbles into Felix’s ears, familiar and low.
Felix jerks, one hand coming up to cradle his belly. “Can I help you?” He stares at the plain blue shirt on Kade’s chest. The fabric clings softly to his pecs. Felix drags his gaze away, unable to meet Kade’s eyes. “I’m afraid some of our pumps are not accepting cards right now—”
“About yesterday,” Kade says, still looking at him. Felix feels like a sheet of glass one second away from shattering. He doesn’t want to talk about yesterday.
He turns, stepping away from the counter, brushing by Susan. He wants to say Please help me with the register for a bit, but his throat is glued shut and if he says anything right now, he’ll break.
He strides past the shelves, along the fridges at the back, bracing himself for I can’t believe you lied to me and I wish you were never my omega, and the soda bottles in the fridge blur into a mess of colors.
Kade follows. Felix feels him striding through another aisle somehow, and he’s barreling forward to the back room, thinking about running out the loading entrance, thinking about locking himself up so he can hide and not be scared. Three more yards and I’ll be gone.
Warm, callused fingers circle his elbow. His breath hitches, and Kade tugs him away from the backroom door, spinning him around.
Felix wobbles, yanking at his arms. Tears spill down his cheeks. He doesn’t need Kade to see him cry. Doesn’t need Kade to see any of this. He’s put Kade through enough.
“Stop running,” Kade murmurs, hauling him close.
Felix stumbles into the wall of his chest. It radiates warmth into his skin, and he shudders at that heat, needing to burrow closer, needing to get away. Why are you touching me if you hate me?
Kade’s fingers squeeze. “About yesterday. I shouldn’t have left.”
Felix blinks rapidly, his chest so tight he can’t breathe. He wishes desperately that Kade will stop talking, so neither of them will get hurt again. Kade had left yesterday. He hadn’t wanted to know anything else.
Felix blinks rapidly, his chest so tight he can’t breathe, and he trembles, wishing desperately that Kade will stop talking, so he won’t get hurt again. Kade had left yesterday. He hadn’t needed to know anything else about a child that isn’t his.
“Look, I don’t care if it—if it isn’t mine, okay?” Kade says, but his breath catches. He’s lying. He cares a lot whose child it is. “I said I’d protect you.”
Why are you doing this to us? Felix shudders, torn between pushing him away, and clinging on. I’m leaving Meadowfall. You didn’t want children. “No,” he chokes. “Go away.”
“I swore an oath,” Kade says in his ear, his hand slipping down to Felix’s wrist where the bonding mark is. “I’m standing by it.”
And Felix breaks against his chest, biting his lip hard to stop himself from sobbing. Kade can’t do this to him. He doesn’t want a child, he doesn’t want a lying omega, and he doesn’t have to remind Felix of what he’ll be losing when he leaves this place behind.
Felix whines. Kade cups a large hand behind his head, pressing his face to his chest. It feels like warmth and safety. Felix wants so badly to stay, wants to be held and have Kade tell him everything’s all right.
Kade holds him. He runs his wrist down Felix’s spine, along his sides, marking his arms. It feels like forgiveness and belonging, like acceptance.
Felix crumples against him, shaking, wishing he could say It’s really yours. But Kade doesn’t want a child. Felix squeezes his eyes shut and shudders, his insides tearing apart.
When he calms, Felix realizes they’re in the half-shadows of the back room, and the brightly-lit aisles outside feel alien to him, full of colorful rows of shampoo. He steps back, wiping his face on his sleeves, already missing Kade’s warmth.
“Sorry,” he croaks, his nose stopped. “I should get back to work.”
But Kade catches his wrist again. Felix pauses, raw.
“I’m still here,” Kade says, his voice low. His nostrils flare. Felix winces to think what he might smell. He’s still using the scent suppressants. “And I�
�ll protect the... the baby too. Just so you’re aware.”
Felix glances up, horrified that he’s somehow influenced him. Kade, who didn’t ask for a child at all. “You don’t have to,” he says. “I can manage.”
Kade studies him, his eyes unreadable in the shadows. Felix looks at the tiled floor, afraid of what Kade might see in him. He pulls his collar up, wiping his face with it. When he steps out of the backroom, Kade follows, the heat of his body radiating through the space between them.
“What time are you getting off work?”
Felix bites his lip, glancing at the clock. He won’t be seeing Kade anymore. He’s moving out tonight. But Kade waits at the counter when he rounds it, and Susan raises her brows, worry in her eyes.
If he’s not going to see Kade anymore... If he has one chance to feel Kade’s warmth against him, Felix will take it.
“Four,” he says.
Kade nods. His gaze lingers on Felix, and he turns, stepping out of the door.
32
Kade
Four o’clock rolls around too slowly.
Kade can’t concentrate on programming or debugging or any of the tiny details he’s supposed to be cleaning up. The letters swim on the screen like a foreign language, so he sighs and jams his headphones over his ears, putting on a playlist.
The songs remind him of Felix. They’ve been to concerts together, squirmed in excitement when Kade’s mom drove them to Highton for autograph sessions, and sung along to When You Climb into the Clouds on the radio. At twenty, Kade had expected that Felix would stay with him forever.
Felix is pregnant with someone else’s baby.
Kade grimaces. The thought stings like a slap, and he pushes away from his desk, throwing the headphones down, stalking out of his bedroom. At the gas station, Felix had barely smelled like himself. Not like yesterday, when his scent had been intense, rich, like lavender and honey, and Kade’s instincts had roared in his body. He needs to protect Felix.
He pulls on his jacket, his helmet, sliding onto his bike. It doesn’t take half an hour to get to the gas station, but he can’t stay home without those thoughts circling like vultures in his mind. So he twists the throttle, roaring down the street, leaving the visor open so the wind brushes by his face.
Kade rides out of town briefly, down the narrow, winding roads through the forest. Then he rides back out, rolling into the gas station at five minutes to four, and waits by the side door to the building, helmet under his arm.
He still doesn’t know what to say to Felix. It had been reckless, offering Felix his protection. He doesn’t even know if Felix wants it.
At 4:01 PM, Felix strides out of the convenience store. He glances around the gas station, at the dusty sedans filling with gas, then to the side, where Kade waits with his bike. Felix’s gaze lingers at Kade’s feet, until he finally drags it up, meeting his eyes. Kade’s stomach jolts.
“Did that bastard harass you?” Kade asks. He can’t help glancing at Felix’s abdomen, though, and the bump is still there, less obvious with the maroon shirt on. Behind that shirt is a second life, one Kade didn’t help create. It still feels wrong.
“No. Rick wasn’t in today,” Felix says. He drifts to a stop three feet away from Kade, his gaze fixed on the curb. His lavender scent is barely-there, unlike the heavy scent in the department store. “So that was nice.”
“Yeah.” Kade doesn’t know what else he can say to his omega, so he leans against the bike, running words through his mind, tracing his gaze over Felix’s slender, pale limbs, the smooth line of his jaw.
He wants to pull Felix close again. Wants to smell that heavy lavender scent. He’d fill his lungs with it.
“Look,” he says, at the same time Felix says, “Actually, I—”
They fall silent, Felix’s gaze flying up warily to lock with his. “You go first,” Kade says.
Felix purses his lips, looking away. “It’s not that important. I... I decided I’m moving later this week.”
Kade swallows, his chest growing tight. That’s not important? “You’re still leaving?”
“Yeah... a few days from now.” Felix hugs himself, his gaze downcast. “I need time to do some things.”
Stay with me, Kade wants to say, but Felix isn’t carrying their child. Why would he stick with Kade? “You need rides anywhere?”
Felix jerks his shoulders. “Maybe. Just to get some boxes, I guess. I threw some away when I moved back.”
It hurts to ask, “Where are you going this time?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Kade looks at the baby bump again—someone else, something wrong between them. He doesn’t know how to solve this. It’s not like programming, where you delete some words in the code, and the app will run smoother than before. “If you need to bunk somewhere, I’ve got space in my house.”
Felix nods. But he’s still looking away, and Kade’s skin feels too tight on him. They’re bondmates. How could this even have happened? Felix’s arms drift to his belly. Kade blurts, “How long—When did you find out?”
Felix glances down at his abdomen, his fingers curving around the bump. In that moment, Kade imagines his future: cradling his child with a wide grin, marrying a faceless alpha, laughing with a new family. He swallows.
“A few months,” Felix says. “I think it’s due around December.”
Kade sucks in a slow breath. “So all those times you said you were on the pill...”
“I wasn’t, no.” Felix’s throat works.
Kade closes his eyes, breathing through the ache in his chest. They’ve been seeing each other for months, and he can’t imagine Felix lying to him for that long. Kade has seen through all his lies before. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”
It’s still not okay.
“Do you have a name for it?” he asks, trying not to think about all this. Felix shakes his head. “Why?”
“I haven’t been to the doctor,” Felix says, hugging himself. “So... I don’t really know what name to give it.”
Kade stares. “Shouldn’t you have gone? I thought... pregnant people visit the doctor. Do the ultrasounds and all that.”
“Just haven’t had time, I guess.”
“You should make an appointment,” Kade says. “I’m taking you there.”
Felix laughs, low and raw, and his mouth twists halfway between a smile and a grimace. “Taylor said the same thing. Why do you... Why...”
He sucks in a sharp breath, blinking hard, and he looks like he’s going to cry again. Kade swears, stepping forward. It feels so natural, folding Felix into his arms. Felix trembles against him, tears glittering along his lashes. Kade smooths a comforting hand down his back.
“I hate... hate crying,” Felix gasps. “I hate being pregnant.”
Kade’s heart cracks. He’d assumed that Felix wants the baby. And maybe he understands a bit of why Felix has lied to him, if Felix has never wanted to acknowledge the baby in the first place. He presses Felix’s face into his shoulder, holding him close. Felix’s hands tangle in his shirt, his entire body shaking.
“Why are you keeping it?” Kade asks. Felix sobs harder, tears soaking into Kade’s shirt, and Kade regrets asking that. “Look, you’re gonna be fine, okay?”
Felix shakes his head, his voice muffled. “I’m not.”
Kade doesn’t know what to say to that, because he wants Felix to be happy, and he doesn’t know how to solve any of this. All he can do is hold him, help him however he needs.
He buries his nose in Felix’s hair, breathing in deep. Under the musk of sweat, he smells faint lavender, and that other note of honey. Then he traces his wrist over Felix’s nape again, down his back, and for a while, he pretends Felix is still his.
After a while, Felix’s sobs taper off. Kade brushes his fingers through his hair, slowly rubbing his scalp. Felix calms. For long moments, they merely breathe, and Kade relishes the weight of his omega in his arms.
The air around them smells like vehicle exha
ust, like a bit of freshly-cut grass. Kade thinks about bringing Felix out of town instead, somewhere they can be alone. After a while, he pulls his phone from his pocket, tapping out a search query.
“Here, this is a prenatal clinic in Meadowfall. Make an appointment now before they close.”
Felix huffs into his chest, his shoulders shaking. “You’re bossy, aren’t you?”
“If both me and your brother are telling you to see the doctor, then you better see the damn doctor,” Kade says, pushing his phone into Felix’s hand. “They close at five. You’ve got half an hour.”
“Fine,” Felix says, thin fingers wrapping around the phone. He steps away from Kade, wiping his face, and peers at the screen.
Five minutes and one appointment later, Felix hands the phone back. “They only had the last slot left for tomorrow,” he says, wincing. “But I guess it won’t clash with my hours.”
Kade pushes the phone into his pocket, watching him sidelong. “Need a ride there?”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you.” Felix bites his lip.
Kade rolls his eyes. “I’ve been picking you up from everywhere the last five months.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.”
“Jeez, you’re an idiot,” Kade says. Felix cringes. Kade swears inwardly. Idiot had been an affectionate nickname years ago. He hadn’t thought it would hurt Felix now. “I’ll pick you up from here tomorrow, okay? It won’t affect my work.”
“Okay. Sorry about that.” Felix hugs himself, his shoulders drooping.
Kade sighs, pulling him back into his arms. “I didn’t mean you’re an idiot. Just... you don’t have to keep saying sorry. Okay?”
“I guess.” Felix’s arms slip around him, and Kade breathes him in again, savoring his omega’s scent while he still can.
In some ways, Felix hasn’t changed since he left. He’s still apologizing. Still feeling guilty about everything. Kade sees the invisible tendrils of the mayor’s influence on his son, and he wishes he could have changed that, some way or another.
“Need a lift home?” he asks.
The Omega's Secret Pregnancy Page 20
