Had Dale put together a list as well? His best omega students, all in a tidy list going to the college president? “I can’t believe this,” he said, betrayal snarling in his chest. He was supposed to have at least five more years to decide. “I’m not even graduating yet.”
“It will be a work in progress,” his father said. “You’ll graduate in two years, but we’ll prefer for you to be bonded in one.”
“What if I find someone else and he doesn’t fit your criteria?”
Bernard narrowed his eyes. “Then we’ll evaluate him.”
Greg thought about Dale pressed against him, his lips bitten red, a flush crawling up his neck. His memories of Dale still made his heart skip, and if they’d fucked and he still had a crush... then the crush would probably never leave.
He looked back at his parents, his father in his austere suit, his mother smiling jovially at him. They waited expectantly for his answer.
If Greg said anything about sleeping with Dale, then Dale would lose his job the moment it left his lips. He wasn’t going to put Dale through that crap.
“I’ll look into it,” Greg said, his thoughts churning.
His father nodded gravely, and his mom hugged him again. “It’ll work out,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m sure you’ll find a good one.”
He’d already found an omega. But Dale had sent Greg away, and it wasn’t as though they’d be in a relationship. Greg wasn’t looking for a partner. Dale didn’t want to see him again.
Greg hugged his mother, dread pressing down on his heart. He probably shouldn’t keep pursuing his professor.
The thing was, he couldn’t stop.
6
Dale
A week later, Dale’s heat had ebbed away. His body had calmed over the weekend. Even though thoughts of Greg sent his blood rushing south, his desire was no longer quite so urgent.
Instead, he was uncomfortable. His skin had turned sensitive to touch, itching from the inner seams of his socks. The stale air in his apartment had become more musty. Daylight seemed too bright when he stared out the windows.
I haven’t turned into a vampire, he thought. Maybe I’m sick.
It didn’t stop him from thinking about Greg.
Over the past week, Dale had been avoiding him. He’d hidden behind his lecture hall podium, pointedly scanning the other students. He’d arrived early to work and left late, hoping not to bump into Greg.
And after his lectures, Greg had stopped coming up to ask him out.
It was obvious—Greg had had his fill of Dale. Why stay when he could have his selection of other people? An MVP like him would surely want the best. Sample everyone before he decided on one omega, maybe two.
After two months of Greg pursuing him, that thought hurt.
He shouldn’t have allowed Greg to come to his office, shouldn’t have fucked him. Greg had moved his attention elsewhere, and Dale missed being wanted. Missed feeling attractive. Missed the days where he stopped remembering You aren’t worthy as an omega.
Dale breathed in, focusing on the paper cranes tucked into little corners of his office. He cradled his mug, steam fogging up his glasses. The milk smoothed out the Colombian brew, and sugary sweetness burst across his taste buds.
Greg probably likes his coffee black, Dale thought. Then he yanked his mind back to his research notes, before it nudged up Greg’s body.
There was nothing else between them. They had had a fling, and that was it.
“Work,” Dale told himself. “June’s coming back.”
She’d texted last night saying she’d be on time today—which meant she’d be in the lab in five minutes. It would be another hour before the students showed up, and Dale needed June to mark him again, mask the lingering traces of aspen that had clung to his skin. No matter how hard he’d scrubbed, his soap didn’t remove Greg’s scent.
And maybe his skin was starting to smell a little different, a little sweeter, but he thought it might’ve been all the sugar he’d been drinking. Funny—he was a scientist, yet he believed in little nonsensical things like that.
Dale tucked his papers under his arm, grabbed his coffee, and headed out of his office.
In the mornings, he liked to spend his time in the quiet lab verifying the students’ results. They performed experiments that the post-docs created, preparing nanoparticle solutions with varying reagents and concentrations. Whenever anyone came up with a particularly fascinating discovery, Dale liked to carry out the experiment himself, watch as the results came alive at his hands.
Today’s experiment would be to test the fluorescence of enzyme-bonded gold nanoparticles—if the test results worked, they could expand into biochemistry research, perhaps land research grants from large medical corporations. It would add reputation points to Meadowfall College, give Dale a better standing in the faculty. Maybe trim a couple months off his time to tenure.
Dale unlocked the lab, flicking on the lights and equipment on the bench tops. He set his coffee by the general-use computers, then spread his papers down on the counters, grabbing a fresh pair of nitrile gloves.
Two minutes in, the door squeaked open, accompanied by a familiar birch scent. “Dale!”
Dale glanced up from the bottles of chemicals, smiling at his friend. “June! Congrats! How was your trip?”
She breezed in with a smile. “Thanks! It was awesome—Cher said yes! I mean, you’ve seen it on Facebook. I thought she might not, you know, with her losing her job and all. But we went out to the bars and quaint bookstores in Portland, and she was thrilled. So I dropped the ring in a shot of tequila and handed it to her. You should’ve seen her face—her eyes grew so wide, I thought they might fall out.”
June dropped her purse in front of her computer, a ring glinting on her finger.
Dale fought down the coil of envy in his chest. She’s young. She deserves a chance at happiness. Don’t make this about yourself.
“I saw the rings on Facebook,” he said, bringing the bottles of chemicals to the
