by Beau Brown
“We went to school together.” Brock dropped his gaze to his drink.
“Oh, well that’s cool.” Lance nodded. “Was it Willowby High?”
“Yep.” Brock avoided my gaze. “It was a long time ago.”
I narrowed my gaze, not sure why he was acting like we hadn’t seen each other since high school.
“Brock here was nice enough to take me out for a celebratory drink.” Lance held up his glass. “I got the position at Willowby.” He grinned.
“Congrats.” I sounded stilted because Brock’s cool demeanor was making me uncomfortable.
“I was sweating bullets at first. But the interview was a breeze.” Lance glanced at Brock’s tense face, looking a little puzzled. “You okay?”
Brock nodded. “I’m perfect.” He picked up his drink and sipped on the straw. “Never better, in fact.”
“Hey, let me buy you a drink.” Lance offered, as he glanced at me.
“Nah. I’m good.” I shifted uneasily.
Brock chuffed and shook his head, which only confused me more.
I cleared my throat. “I’d better get back to my buddy.” I gestured toward Harry. It was a pretty lame excuse. It wasn’t like Harry was waiting eagerly for my return. But Brock seemed irritated with me, and I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.
“Yeah, you’d better run along,” Brock muttered.
Lance gave his co-worker another curious look and then addressed me. “Sure, maybe we can have a drink another time.”
“Um, sure.” I grimaced.
I left them and sat back down beside Harry. He didn’t seem to notice I was back since he was busy hitting on a guy next to him. I kept my gaze pinned on the bar, hating that Brock had seemed so pissed at me. Last time we’d seen each other everything had been great. Perfect, even. I wasn’t quite sure what to think finding him here tonight. I’d come here to test myself, but was that why he was here? Or had he truly only come here to buy Lance a congratulatory drink? Maybe that was why he seemed mad to find me here.
I sat for a while, deep in thought, and when I glanced up, Brock was on the dance floor with some burly guy with tattoos. The guy kept pressing closer to Brock and trying to grind up on him. I watched them for a while, trying to do it subtly. While it was none of my business who Brock danced with, I had to admit, I wasn’t thrilled about watching the two of them together. Maybe that was because it was one thing to know you saw other people, and another thing to actually see each other with different people.
I ordered another beer and tore my gaze from Brock and his dance partner. I continued to tell myself it was good to play the field. Flirting with other guys was a useful way to keep some distance. This was probably good for both of us.
By the time I’d finished my third beer, I’d mustered the nerve to ask an attractive guy sitting nearby, to dance. He seemed thrilled, and we danced three songs in a row. He was blond with a nice body, and from the way he kept touching me, I knew he was obviously interested in me. I’d always really liked blonds, but for some reason all I could think about was Brock’s silky black hair and pretty blue eyes.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
When Blondie asked me to keep dancing, I politely declined. I needed some air, so I left the club and went out front to try to clear my mind. I felt confused by nagging feelings of jealousy toward Brock, even as I knew I was the one insisting I didn’t want anything serious. I closed my eyes briefly, struggling against the temptation of dragging Brock home with me. Keeping him at an arm’s length felt pretty stupid when he was the one guy in that club who actually interested me.
I’d been outside about a half hour when Brock came outside, apparently heading for his car. A jolt of excitement went through me at the sight of him. He didn’t seem to see me in the shadows where I stood toward the end of the building. For whatever reason, I couldn’t let him leave without saying something to him, but when I stepped into the light, he jumped, pressing his palm to his chest.
“Shit. You almost gave me a heart attack.” His eyes glittered in the street lights.
“Leaving so soon?” I probably should have stayed hidden; I wasn’t even sure what to say to him. But I’d felt driven to connect with him somehow before he left.
“It’s midnight. I have work tomorrow.”
“Me too.”
“Then you should probably go home as well.”
“Maybe I will.”
His jaw clenched. “Sure. Difference is, I’m going home alone. Blondie will probably keep you up all night.”
“I’m not interested in Blondie.”
“Right. Well, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything. Have a good night.” He started to move toward his vehicle again.
For some dumb reason I followed him. “Are you mad at me?”
He stopped and faced me. “What?”
“You seemed irritated with me earlier.”
He didn’t respond immediately. He bit his lower lip and shrugged. “It was weird, that’s all.”
“What was weird?” I asked softly.
“Watching you hit on other guys right in front of me. I wasn’t prepared for it. I was just going to have one drink with Lance and then hurry home.” His mouth hardened. “I stupidly hoped you’d call. But whatever. It is what it is.”
I swallowed, thrown off by his candor. “It’s not like I didn’t want to call.”
His laugh was hard. “Save it. I’m a big boy.” He started to walk away, and I grabbed his arm. He looked surprised.
“Wait. I want to explain myself.”
“Trevor, drop it. You’ve been up front from the start. I just really like you, so it’s hard. But I’ll live, okay?”
I wanted to kiss him so bad it was distracting. I wanted to take him in my arms and tell him how much more he affected me than any other guy in that fucking club. But I didn’t have the nerve. I didn’t have the balls to admit my strong feelings for him out loud. But I decided to at least let him know it wasn’t exactly easy on me either. “For the record, I didn’t enjoy seeing you with other men.”
His expression remained guarded. “Yeah. I know. Alphas are territorial.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it.”
He frowned. “How the fuck would I know that? You just spent the night ignoring me and pawing other guys. I got the message loud and clear. Don’t back track now because you feel sorry for me or something.”
I clenched my jaw, confused by my jumbled emotions. “I didn’t expect to like you as much as I do.”
He gave a gruff laugh. “I’m sorry I’m so charming?”
I exhaled impatiently. “This was just supposed to be sex. Remember?”
He blinked slowly. “I know. I get it.”
I ran my hand over the back of my neck. “You’ve got me so damned confused, Brock.”
“That makes two of us.” He carefully pulled his arm from my grasp. “I need to go.”
“Can I come by your place?”
“What?”
“Let me come by and we can talk this out.”
Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head. “Hell no.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll most likely end up fucking and I’m not sure I can handle that tonight.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Don’t be so stubborn. We’ve had a lot of fun together. Why get all serious and ruin everything?”
He dropped his chin to his chest. “Look, you’re more experienced than me. I thought I could handle this kind of casual hook up type of thing. But I don’t think it’s for me. Sorry.”
“You said you weren't looking for anything either.”
“I wasn’t.” He shrugged. “But somewhere along the way I started to actually catch feelings for you. It’s not your fault, so don’t feel guilty. But I need to back out now for the sake of my emotional well-being.”
I scowled. “So just like that you don’t want to see me anymore?” It was surprising how depressed the thought
of that made me. I’d spouted the whole time how this was just casual and it could end at any time. I guess I’d just always figured I’d be the one to pull the plug.
He frowned. “I’m not trying to be vindictive. But tonight was a wakeup call for me. I needed it. I was starting to do that classic thing people do when they like someone. I kept ignoring what you were actually saying, thinking I could change your mind.” He gave a gruff laugh. “I’m embarrassed that I was that naïve. But It’s okay because I’m back on track.”
“But… we were having so much fun together. Why wouldn’t you want to keep that going?”
“Cuz, tonight wasn’t fun, Trevor. I don’t want to feel that way again. Yes, we’ve had some great times together. I felt really connected to you. Then tonight? It was like we were strangers. I don’t think that’s healthy for me. It made me feel like shit.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to run into each other at the club. Are you just going to ignore me or something?”
“Maybe I won’t come to the club for a while. I’ll figure it out.”
“Wow.” I shook my head. “I wish I could just switch my feelings on and off like you do.”
His face flushed. “You’re not listening. If I could switch them off none of this would be a problem for me, Trevor.” He leaned toward me. “You don’t want me. Not really. You just don’t like the idea of someone else having me. I get it. I understand alphas.”
“You’re wrong. It’s not just that. I really enjoyed being with you.”
He sighed, looking tired. “Awesome. Maybe eventually we can be friends again. Friends without benefits.” He surprised me when he moved closer and kissed me softly. His lips were gentle against mine. When he pulled away, his smile was sad. “Goodbye, Trevor.”
I watched him walk away feeling muddled and frustrated. He’d respected my boundaries, and instead of feeling good about that, I felt depressed. Angry. I’d gone out tonight hoping to reassure myself that I didn’t need Brock, and that there were plenty of fish in the sea.
But I didn’t want all those other ‘fish’. I wanted Brock. I wanted him so much it hurt. But I was too big of a coward to tell him that. So instead I let him walk away, taking a piece of my heart with him.
Chapter Ten
Brock
I called in sick the next day. Running into Trevor the night before had fucked up my sleep, and I didn’t feel well at all. I rolled on my side and curled into a ball, trying to ignore the nagging nausea attacking me. I wasn’t sure if I’d eaten something that didn’t agree with me, or if it was just stress from the situation with Trevor. That had certainly been an awkward, sucky night last night.
I shivered and pulled the blankets up to my neck. Every time I thought about him dancing with, or touching another omega, I wanted to puke. It hurt like hell to think I’d never get to be with him again. I’d grown accustomed to spending many evenings with him, just talking and laughing. He’d seemed to really get me, and I didn’t meet many people who I bonded to so quickly.
That’s all done now.
My stomach rumbled, and I threw back the covers and hurried to the bathroom. Once there, I knelt in front of the toilet, and vomited. Waves of nausea rolled through me as sweat trickled down my face. I stayed there for a while, leaning on the toilet and trying to think calming thoughts. Eventually, I stumbled back to bed and crawled under the covers.
Around noon, the nausea faded, and I began to feel a little better. I got up, showered and made myself some toast and chamomile tea. I took it easy, reading and napping. By dinner time I felt more like my old self. I had some soup and then I went to bed.
My mind wanted to return to thoughts of Trevor. No matter how many times I pushed those thoughts away, they came back. My heart ached at the knowledge that we were over. I’d always known this day would come, but I’d hoped it would be way in the future. I’d also hoped Trevor would change his mind and maybe fall in love with me. Because I’d stupidly let myself actually begin to care about him, and it sucked big time with it being one sided.
At one point I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the sun came through a crack in the curtains. I slowly sat up, thankful it was Saturday. I grimaced when a nudge of nausea wiggled through me. I’d barely eaten yesterday, so I didn’t think it was anything I’d eaten while home. When I stood I felt a little light headed, but I forced myself to dress and go into the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast.
When I cracked an egg into the simmering pan on the stove, a jolt of nausea slammed into me and I made it to the bathroom just in time. I dry heaved for about ten minutes and then I leaned against the bathroom vanity feeling panicked. Was it possible for food poisoning to go away and then come back again the next morning? I knew it could last for a few days, but did it usually go away and then come back?
I sucked in a deep breath and willed myself to feel better. Maybe it was simply stress. Everything with Trevor had me tied up in knots. Perhaps it was manifesting physically because I didn’t want to deal with it emotionally. After about twenty minutes, I stood slowly and headed back to the kitchen. The smell of butter and eggs made my gut roll, and I hurried out onto the back porch.
I rubbed my stomach and tried not to entertain the one terrifying thought that kept nipping at me: Maybe I’m pregnant. “No, fucking way,” I grunted to the empty porch. “That can’t be true.”
Trevor and I had always used protection. Not counting that one time we’d toyed with the idea of going bareback, we’d never considered going without a rubber. I was well aware that no birth control was a hundred percent perfect, but if a condom had been defective, neither one of us had noticed.
I decided I’d see how I felt tomorrow when I woke up. It was entirely possible this was just a bug, and I was overreacting. I held my breath and went back into the kitchen, putting the eggs and butter away in the fridge. Then I made myself a cup of tea and dry toast and sat at the table. I stared into space as I forced myself to eat.
As the day progressed, I began to feel more like myself again. Just like yesterday. I tried to take comfort in that, even though I was still rather worried. I spent my time reading, and I took a walk, hoping to clear my head of all the negative thoughts. By bedtime I felt a little more centered.
When I woke up Sunday morning, and the nausea came back, I felt like crying. Once I’d spent another morning kneeling before the toilet, I had my tea and toast and I headed straight for the drugstore. I couldn’t go on torturing myself without really having any answers. I went across town to a little store where no one would know me. I bought three pregnancy tests just so I could be good and sure the results were legitimate. Whatever they were.
The cashier was a woman probably in her thirties and she smiled when she saw what I was buying. “Oh, are you and your alpha having a baby?” She tossed the kits into a plastic bag.
I kept my face blank. “We don’t know yet.” There was no way I was admitting I had no alpha. That was way too humiliating. While some omegas did sometimes have children when they were single, it was rare in our alpha/omega society. Especially in a small town like Willowby.
“I have two kids. Both are teenagers and let me just tell you that’s not a great age.” She laughed. “But you’ll have many years before you have to worry about that.”
My face felt hot. “I guess so.” I grabbed the bag and my change, and I hurried out of the shop. I got in my car and threw the bag onto the passenger seat. I was sweaty and nervous and just wanted this all to be a dream.
Once I was home, I stalled for a few hours, eying the bag on the kitchen table like it was a rattlesnake. I drank a bunch of water and orange juice as I prepared to take the tests. Eventually, my bladder was full, and I marched into the bathroom with my pregnancy tests. With shaking hands I peed on the first stick, praying to any god who’d listen. I set the test on the box and stared into space while the minutes ticked by. When the time was up, I picked up the test
and stared in horror at the two little pink lines that meant a positive result.
“No,” I whispered. “No. No. No. I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t be.”
I tossed the test into the trash and went again. I was light headed as I waited for the second test. When the next test also showed a positive result, I wanted to scream and punch something. I’d been so careful, and now I was carrying the baby of an alpha who just wanted to play the field? He’d made it perfectly clear settling down wasn’t something he was interested in, and now I was supposed to tell him he’d knocked me up? I could just imagine the look of pity and disgust if I had to tell Trevor I was expecting his offspring. That scenario wasn’t something I could even wrap my head around.
For some reason I went ahead and did the third test too. I don’t know if I was a glutton for punishment or what. Did I really believe the results would change the third time around? Third time’s a charm? Well it wasn’t in my case. The last test showed the same, alarming thing: two bright pink lines.
All the possible options fluttered through my head: abortion. Giving the baby up for adoption. Keeping the kid and raising it by myself. I wasn’t sure how I’d accomplish the latter without a family to help me. I knew daycare wasn’t cheap, and I didn’t have anyone close enough that I could impose on them to take care of my baby.
I hadn’t slept with anyone but Trevor in ages, so there was no question who the dad was. I tried to picture telling him, and I almost hyperventilated from the stress of that hypothetical conversation. If I told him the news would he be mad? I didn’t think he’d be happy. He’d made it clear he wanted nothing serious, and there were few things in life more serious than having a child.
I was a hundred percent pro-choice, but I didn’t think I personally could have an abortion without feeling guilty. Not that that was a valid emotion, but I knew myself well enough to know I would probably still feel that way. Hell, I felt guilty when I didn’t return my shopping cart to the proper area.
But how would I raise a kid alone? I didn’t know if I had the skill-set involved in being a good dad. Especially a single parent where I’d have to play two roles. I’d never had a real father figure in my life. Would I even know how to play either part?
