“You’ll make it through.”
“Because you believe in me?”
“Because you want to be back in that bed.” Greg laughed, and Dale tried to scowl, failing miserably. Instead, he stepped closer to the stove, elbowing Greg.
“Hey! That’s not what a prof’s supposed to do.”
“Don’t sully my reputation, Greg Hastings.”
“You sully it enough yourself,” Greg said.
“Do I?” Dale hesitated, trying to remember if any of the students had looked suspiciously at him. Then he glanced down at his naked body, and at the blinds.
“No, I don’t mean that. Damn it.” Greg winced, nudging Dale’s foot with his own. “I was kidding.”
“Oh.”
Greg turned the heat down on the stove, took Dale’s mug out of his hands, and set it on the counter. Then he gathered Dale in his arms, pulling him against his bare chest. Dale leaned in. Greg felt good. Safe. His arms curved solidly around Dale’s back, like a protective cage, and Dale didn’t want him to leave.
“You’re carrying my baby,” Greg murmured into Dale’s hair, his breath warm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It was nice of him to try. Dale sighed. “You can’t do everything, Greg. You’re not old enough. As much as I hate to say it, you don’t have the rank or power your father has.”
Greg stiffened. Dale rubbed his back, trying to console him.
“I’m gonna do better,” Greg said. “Once this semester’s over, I’ll look into a full-time job.”
“Promise me you’ll return to school when the semester starts,” Dale said, a streak of anxiety winding through his chest. “Please don’t jeopardize your career because of a baby. I make enough to support it.”
“Still not what I want. I’ve told you, fifty-fifty. I’m not letting you do all the work.”
Greg glared down at him, and Dale’s heart skipped. This is insane. You’re twenty years younger than I am. You shouldn’t give up your future because of a mistake.
“We’ll talk about it when the time comes,” Dale said, reluctant to argue about this right now. Not when the eggs were sizzling, and they could be doing better things. Like snuggling closer, Greg’s mouth brushing over his. “Breakfast first.”
He pressed a kiss to Greg’s shoulder, savoring the heat of his skin. Then he trailed kisses up along Greg’s throat, licking at his pulse point.
Greg swallowed, slipping his hands down to squeeze Dale’s ass. “Breakfast? You mean, you?”
Dale laughed, and Greg shut off the stove, pushing Dale up against the wall. This close, Dale was only aware of Greg, and the hint of musk that coiled from his skin. So he pressed his hand against Greg’s abs, sliding it past his waistband. No underwear. Just hot skin, and a growing cock.
“Very nice,” Dale murmured.
Greg smirked, kissing him, and breakfast slipped entirely from his mind.
12
Dale
“You smell like alpha,” June said the moment Dale stepped into the lab. “And you’re late.”
Dale winced, sniffing at his arms. It was 8:30 AM. He’d scrubbed at his skin earlier, but no matter how vigorously he’d showered, Greg’s aspen scent still lingered in the creases of his body.
Desperate, he’d gone to the school bookstore, grabbing a couple different brands of scent suppressants. The cashier had joked with him; Sam Brentwood had been working there part-time for the past five years, and he was familiar with most of the campus staff. Of course, Sam had to ask who the new alpha was. Dale had brushed the question away, his cheeks burning as he left.
In his car, he’d spritzed the suppressant all over his clothes, coughing when the spray stung his nose.
“I’ve muted the scents somewhat,” Dale muttered, glancing around his lab. This early, only the grad students and post-docs were around, working on their own experiments. Glass rods clinked in test tubes, and the machines whirred quietly in the background.
“Relax,” June said, leaving her desk. “It’s not strong.”
But her eyebrows quirked knowingly, and Dale couldn’t meet her gaze. “I’m not sure what I can say,” he muttered. “I’m aware of the consequences.”
She sighed, spreading her arms. Dale stepped into them. He liked hugs. And he liked June in a purely platonic way, but her birch scent still comforted him. “So am I still your pretend alpha?” she whispered. “Or are you transitioning away?”
Dale bit his lip. “I don’t know. I told him I’d try this for a week.”
“Oh, gods, Dale.” June’s shoulders sagged. “I’m happy that you’re happy about the baby, but this... it’s risky.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” But Dale remembered the warmth in Greg’s eyes, the heat of his embrace, and his stomach swooped. He hadn’t needed anyone this badly in years. “I just... It’s nice.”
“I’m sure you’d be able to find other alphas out there if you looked.”
“I guess. I might be in a little deep.”
“You think?” She rolled her eyes, but hugged him tighter. The birch helped mask the aspen scent, too, so Dale wasn’t complaining. “I know Meadowfall isn’t exactly a tiny town, but it’s still risky.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said. “He’s staying over at my place.”
“Merciful gods. His dad—”
“—Is having a meeting with me later,” Dale said. “You might want to have 9-1-1 on speed dial.”
“I should come along with you,” June said, peering worriedly at him. “Geez, Dale. I’ve known you for four years. You’ve been scandal-free this whole time!”
“With any luck, I’ll have my tenure in the next two years, and Greg will graduate and leave for good.” Dale bit his lip, glancing down. Right now, his chances of tenure were growing slimmer. Probably in inverse proportions with his belly.
“I hate that omegas are held to a different standard,” June muttered. “With ten years, you’d have gotten tenure as an alpha.”
Dale sighed. “Not much I can do about that. But the suppressants don’t work especially well.”
The lab door creaked open. Dale and June both looked up, and Greg stepped in. Dale’s stomach flipped.
Greg had changed his clothes—T-shirt, new jeans, basketball shoes. He paused at the door, his gaze flicking between
