Dale cracked a smile, and when Greg kissed him, Dale melted in his arms, sweet and omega and so very needy.
That weekend, Greg drove them to Highton in his Porsche, and no one gave them a second glance at all.
They had dinner at a French restaurant. At the basketball arena, before the game started, Dale leaned into Greg’s shoulder. No one booed, or even looked their way. Dale’s darting glances finally stopped, and as the game kicked off, Dale squeezed Greg’s hand, leaning forward, excitement on his face.
Somehow, Greg knew this was what Dale looked like back home, when he was watching the Meadowfall Lions’ games. How he looked as he watched Greg, cheering him on.
Despite the fact that they were there to watch Phil O’Riley, Greg found himself watching Dale half the time, admiring his omega, the way his shoulders tensed when the other team had the ball.
Dale had stopped worrying about himself, or their relationship, and he looked so much younger, so much more alive than he did back home.
As Greg watched him, he realized that Dale was important. That despite his reluctance to think about his future, a future with Dale sounded... good. Comforting. He could see them living together, raising a baby. They would take turns changing its diaper, or feeding it, or coaxing it to sleep.
Greg couldn’t bear to think of a future for himself, but a future with Dale made him want.
And that was when he realized... he’d fallen in love with Dale Kinney.
16
Greg
It wasn’t until the end of the fourth week, as they were heading out of Dale’s apartment, that Greg grew tired of not knowing.
“Hey,” he said when Dale locked the door. “About this.”
Dale’s eyes flickered up to his, mint-green and questioning. “This?”
Greg wetted his lips, his heart thudding. “Yeah. Me and you.”
Dale’s cheeks turned a faint pink. He glanced down at his belly, which was still flat as ever. But the honey of his scent was heavier now, and Greg knew without a doubt that Dale carried his child.
“What about us?” Dale asked.
“You haven’t asked me to leave.”
Dale opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyes darted around them, but at 8 AM, the few neighbors around were getting into their cars and heading away to work. “Should I be?”
“Do you want me to?”
Dale tucked his keys into his pocket, looking down. For a long moment, he didn’t answer. “This really shouldn’t be happening.”
Greg knew that. “But what do you want? Should I leave?”
Dale swallowed, shaking his head.
Greg’s heart leaped. After the two months of pursuing him, after the past month staying with Dale... Dale wanted him, and this felt like a dream.
Over the past few weeks, he’d learned more about Dale. Little things, like Dale’s stash of sweet wine, that he eyed but didn’t touch. Like Dale’s favorite craft channel on TV, and the curtains of miniature cranes he sold, made with cranes from previous years. More than once, Greg had helped him string the birds, sending it off to new homes around the world.
Dale cared about him. He understood the situation with Tony, and never cast judgment on Greg.
And all this felt like a legitimate relationship. They’d curl up in bed, and Dale would tell him that three research projects were close publishing papers. That the cats next door were having kittens. That the sausage casserole Greg made was the best he’d ever had.
If they weren’t teacher and student, theirs would have been just another alpha-omega relationship.
“So,” Greg said, unsure how to proceed. “Does this mean...?”
Dale bit his lip. “We can’t go public with this.”
“We can’t.”
Dale rubbed the scent gland at his wrist, where the old scar was—left by an alpha who no longer wanted him. Looking at it made Greg’s chest heat. “I still want to mark you,” Greg murmured. “Want you as my bondmate.”
Dale’s cheeks darkened. “I know.”
“You believe me now?”
“Yes.” Dale lifted his hand, hesitating. They were outside the apartment, and anyone could see them. But Dale slipped his hand into Greg’s for a second, and squeezed his fingers.
Something in Greg’s chest roared. He wants me.
Dale pulled his hand away, flushing right to his hairline. He was adorable, and Greg wanted to pull him close, drop kisses all over his face.
He followed Dale to the Volkswagen instead, slipping inside. It was only when the doors shut, when Dale locked them inside, that Greg leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“I love you,” Greg whispered, his heart thudding in his ears.
Dale froze. He blinked rapidly, his gaze darting to Greg’s, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “I... I...”
“You don’t have to say it back,” Greg muttered, looking away, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t believe he’d said it, either. But he knew he felt it, knew what his instincts told him. “I just wanted you to know.”
Dale stared at the steering wheel, his cheeks pink. “I... Well, thank you.”
Greg shrugged. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. I just... It’s special. Nice.”
“I thought you had a better vocabulary than that,” Greg said. “You’re a professor.”
Dale laughed, his eyes sparkling. He opened his mouth to say something else. Then he blanched, glancing desperately around the car, one hand flying up to cover his mouth.
“What do you need?” Greg asked, preemptively looking at the backseat.
Dale shook his head, scrambling against the car door. When it opened, he dashed out, reaching for his house keys. Before he could get them into the door, he doubled over, puking behind the bush by the front steps.
Oh.
Greg was out of the car, bottled water and a wad of napkins in hand. Dale’s face was pale, his chest heaving.
Greg rubbed his back. “I’ve got water and napkins. Which do you want?”
“Water first,” Dale croaked, wincing. He spat, washing his mouth out. Then he wiped his mouth with the napkins, and Greg brushed away the sweat that
