“Aww, no, don’t be. I mean, I’d been waiting for that moment forever.” June turned on her computer, then wandered over, her gray eyes sparkling. “So, what about you? What mischief have you been up to? How are you and Greg?”
He knew she meant that as a joke, but he couldn’t help remembering Greg’s hot body against his, pressing him down against his desk, Dale’s thighs spread for that alpha.
While June was away, Dale had gone and fucked his student, and he’d thoroughly enjoyed it.
He looked down to hide the burn creeping up his cheeks.
“No way,” June said, slowing down. “Don’t tell me...”
“Nothing happened,” Dale said tightly, unscrewing the first bottle. He set a filmy sheet onto the weighing scale to hold the oxidase powder. Concentrate on your experiment. You’re too old for a family. Gre—An alpha wouldn’t want you. “I’ll need you to mark me later.”
“Something did happen.” June stopped next to him, watching as he dipped a spatula into the bottle. Her nostrils flared. “I can smell—wait. You smell different.”
Dale tapped a minuscule amount of powder onto the reagent sheet, watching as the numbers on the digital scale flickered. I know I smell like him. You don’t have to dig it in.
“It’s not just Greg,” June said, her eyes growing wide. “Merciful gods, Dale, you smell sweet. And I know that smell. My neighbor’s been pregnant thrice.”
“What?”
“You smell like my neighbor.”
“I don’t even know your neighbor.”
“No. I mean, you smell pregnant, Dale.” She looked him over, breathing deep. “Please don’t tell me you slept with Greg. I mean, anyone else would be fine.”
Pregnant? How in the world could he smell pregnant? It had been something he’d wished for countless times. All it had given him was loneliness.
Dale blinked at June, his heart sore. She knew not to talk about his infertility, especially when she’d just gotten engaged. “You know I can’t do the pregnant thing.”
“I know you can’t, and I’m sorry.” June winced. “But you smell different, Dale. I’m serious. I’ll go out and buy you tests if it’ll convince you.”
“I can’t be pregnant,” he said in a tiny voice.
He’d been over this with Charles, with the doctors in Arizona. He remembered the marriage certificate, with ANNULLED stamped across it in big red letters. He remembered Charles’ parents and their snide remarks. Drop him, Charles, his body has rotted like a bad egg.
Hearing June talk about this... It felt as though a spotlight had been cast on the ugliest part of himself. “I’m just... not feeling well.”
“You smell like honey.” June frowned, setting a hand on her hip. “Look, did something happen with Greg? ‘Cause this is... not good. I’m two hundred percent sure you smell like pregnant omega.”
His hand trembled. Dale swallowed past the lump in his throat. He’d waited years to be told that. Surely June knew not to make a pregnancy joke. “I—I’m not pregnant.”
He put the spatula back into the bottle, and June’s gaze snapped to it. She looked back at him, horror darting through her eyes. “You aren’t starting a nanoparticle experiment, are you?”
“I’m not pregnant, June. The toxicity won’t affect me.”
“No, put that down immediately,” June said, her voice sharp. “Whatever experiment it is, I’ll do it for you.”
He didn’t believe her reasoning, but her tone forced his hand. Dale set the bottle on the counter, his heart thudding in his chest. This joke was getting old. He’d gone out of his way to give June a two-week break.
June pulled on a pair of gloves, shutting the clear box around the measuring scale, capping the bottles. She glanced at the experiment procedure, tugged all their gloves off, then held Dale by the shoulders, gently pushing him back to the computers. “Sit. I’m going out right now, and I don’t want you to move an inch.”
“I can’t be pregnant,” Dale said, miserable. He sat stiffly in the office chair next to hers.
June eyed the scent gland at his neck, then his wrists, her expression completely serious. It wasn’t like her at all, and a faint unease slid through Dale’s gut. “Did you sleep with Greg? While you were in heat?”
He didn’t want to lie to her. So he nodded, looking down at his hands. June’s stare burned through his skin.
June knew. Dale sleeping with Greg was no longer a secret, and June could judge him for it. Dale’s cheeks scorched. This was worse than the time the iron nanoparticles had caught fire in front of the college president.
“Oh, gods.” June grabbed her car keys and purse. Then she gave him a quick hug, enveloping him in her birch scent. “I’m running out. Be back in ten.”
The door slammed shut. Dale stared at the computer with its log-in screen, the vertical bar blinking patiently at him. He couldn’t be pregnant. It was impossible. He and Charles had tried a hundred times, maybe a thousand, and he always went into heat the next month.
He didn’t have the energy to convince June of his failures right now.
Instead of thinking about June, or Greg, Dale thought about the omega list Bernard Hastings had asked for two weeks ago.
Bernard had emailed him again, asking for more detail on Penny Fleming, the second-best student in his class. Greg was his top student. Why Bernard wanted omegas... Well, it was simple, now that Dale thought about it. He was looking for omegas for his son.
Penny would suit Greg, Dale thought. She was pleasant, bubbly, smiling whenever she talked to him. And she was, very likely, fertile.
His heart squeezed.
Unwilling to think further, he slid a square filter paper from June’s workspace, folding it into halves lengthwise. Then he flipped it over and folded it along the diagonals, scratching in the creases so they became permanent.
Sometime later, the door burst open. Dale jumped in his seat, the paper crane falling out of his hands.
“I got you five tests,” June said, brandishing the colorful boxes at him. “Sorry, bags cost extra. Blame that new California law. Anyway,
