That always felt like a betrayal, every time Dom thought about it.
One week before Sinclair’s probie period ended, Dom overheard a conversation.
“Aww, just join us this one time,” Alec said, his voice echoing all over the locker room. “You’ll graduate from being a probie next week!”
“‘Sides, bar nights are fun,” York added. “You’ve been missing out on all the free booze. Come celebrate!”
Sinclair’s voice was measured, hesitant. “But who’s paying for it?”
Dom stared at the shower water pooling around his feet. Me. It figured, that Sinclair still remembered that first bar night. That Dom was the reason Sinclair didn’t want to show up.
On a basal level, Dom was glad that they shared the same opinion about each other. The further Sinclair held himself, the better off Dom would be.
“Uh, beats me,” Alec said. “Who even remembers stuff like that? All I know is, I owe Gareth and Dom a lot of drinks.”
“I could ask Gareth,” York volunteered.
“No, there’s no need to,” Sinclair said immediately.
Because, what? He was afraid Dom would discover that Sinclair was avoiding him?
“So you’ll be there?” Alec asked. “It’s just a couple hours. Nate volunteered to drive us home.”
“Unless you have something else you’d rather be doing,” York added. “Do you?”
“No,” Sinclair said eventually.
“Then you’re joining us.” There was a smile in Alec’s voice. “Woohoo! Bar night’s gonna be fun!”
“I hope so,” Sinclair answered defeatedly.
Dom’s stomach flipped in the oddest way. It wasn’t like he’d followed up on that promise to fuck Sinclair. Nothing had happened between them. Everything was strictly professional—even if he’d had the occasional dream of that alpha bent over before him, wearing only his scars.
There was no way Dom would admit that he’d woken up raging hard from those dreams, thinking his cock was still slick from Sinclair’s tight hole.
Hell, even the thought of that—it was starting to make him hard.
Quit thinking about that. It wasn’t as though Sinclair was an omega, anyway. His hole wouldn’t be slick. He shut off the water, drying his hair.
When Dom stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, the conversation stopped.
“Oh, hey, Dom.” Alec grinned. “Didn’t know who was showering. You’re gonna be at bar night, right?”
“Yeah.” Dom headed over to his locker. He didn’t even need to look, to know that Sinclair had stiffened up somewhere to his right.
“Tell us when we can return the favor,” York said. “You’ve been paying for our drinks for a long time.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dom shrugged, pulling off his towel. Nudity wasn’t an issue in the locker room... except he could feel a pair of eyes on him. No points for guessing who.
He pulled on his underwear and turned—just to see where Sinclair would look next. Even though he knew he shouldn’t.
Blue eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. Yeah, Sinclair had been staring. Somewhere around Dom’s ass. And Dom remembered being in this same locker room a year ago, Sinclair’s bare cock pushed up against his pants. That had haunted his dreams, too.
He pulled on his pants, then his shirt, his cock thickening with the fact that he still held every single ounce of Sinclair’s attention. It was twisted. Dom didn’t know what the hell was wrong with himself anymore.
But as long as he kept it quiet, no one would be any the wiser.
He shut his locker door, meeting Sinclair’s eyes again—just to show that he wouldn’t back down from a challenge. “Quit slacking around,” he said to all of them.
Then he left the locker room, hoping like hell he would never soften up toward Sinclair.
That would be the end of him.
6
Bar Nights Part 2
Sinclair was late to bar night. Conversation had started up all around Dom, and yet he kept looking back at the empty seat across the table, waiting for that damn alpha to show up.
“You sure are distracted.” Gareth leaned in so he could lower his voice.
Dom narrowed his eyes. “I’m not.”
Gareth only raised an eyebrow. “So tell me why you keep glancing at the door.”
“That’s what you think I’m doing,” Dom retorted, because he wasn’t.
Around them, York, Nate, and Alec were clinking glasses. Even Harris and Brad were here. The married alphas didn’t usually show up—Dom couldn’t fault them for wanting to spend time with their families.
Today was for celebrating Sinclair’s graduation into a regular firefighter, though, so the whole team was present. Harris had wanted to foot the bill. Dom had arm-wrestled him out of it—because it was supposed to be his turn, damn it.
Not because he wanted to pay for Sinclair’s drink. That was ridiculous.
He was lifting the glass of whiskey sour to his lips, turning to Gareth to prove he wasn’t distracted, when he smelled cinnamon.
It shouldn’t snare his attention like it did, but Dom looked up. Gareth followed his gaze.
Across the bar, Sinclair was stepping through the door, rain dripping down his face.
“Huh.” Gareth looked pointedly at Dom. “Something you’re not telling me?”
Like Dom had anything to say about Sinclair. “No.”
“You still want him off the team.”
Some days lately, when there were no reports of Sinclair going into a panic, Dom had to dig deep into his memory, to remind himself that he did not agree to Jesse Sinclair joining their station family. “Yeah,” Dom said. That was a stance he wouldn’t let himself forget anytime soon. “I regret not making him a probie for two years.”
Gareth snorted. “You knew six months into his probation, that he’s perfectly capable. He’s proven himself over and over.”
“He still hasn’t had a chance to fuck up big time.”
Gareth’s stare almost made him uneasy. “Why, because you can’t stand the sight of him? Or because you don’t want to admit that you’ve got issues?”
Because no one else was looking their way, Dom flipped him off. Gareth rolled his eyes.
Dom focused
