Greg wanted to be needed, and Dale needed him around.
To have Dale reject the idea of marriage, well. Greg wasn’t sure what to think of it, other than it was the wrong decision. Even if he himself could not promise a future.
He stayed silent through the trip to the science faculty, dropping Dale off at the lab building. Dale had one foot out of the car when he turned back, his eyes searching out Greg’s.
“I’ll park the car here and walk,” Greg said. “Text me if you want me to drive you anywhere.”
“Okay.” Dale hesitated, glancing around them. The entrance to the building was empty. There were no cars pulling into the parking lot, and no students walking around them.
Dale leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth. Greg’s heart missed a beat.
“See you later,” Dale whispered, his eyes heavy with guilt.
“I love you,” Greg said when he pulled away.
Dale bit his lip, looking at the dashboard. “I know. See you in class.”
The car door slammed shut, and Greg watched as Dale made his way to the lab building, disappearing past its doors.
So maybe they weren’t going to marry. But Dale liked him enough to risk kissing him in public, and that... had never happened before.
Greg took comfort in it.
17
Dale
Dale popped a ginger drop into his mouth, trying to quell the nervous patter of his pulse. His thoughts whirled—Greg proposing, the morning sickness. Someone on campus knew.
He breathed in deeply, then released his breath. Breathed in, breathed out.
No matter how hard he tried to shove it from his mind, Dale remembered Greg’s fierce eyes in the bookstore. Greg had been serious when he’d said, Dale is my omega. I’m marrying him.
In the store, Dale’s heart had given an excited little thud. Then the rest of reality had sunken in, and Dale had realized that they had had an audience. That Sam Brentwood knew.
Sam’s relatives weren’t part of the college—Dale had learned that much. But Sam was still a college employee. He dealt with hundreds of people in the bookstore every day. Just the thought of him knowing sent goosebumps marching down Dale’s skin.
He slipped into his office and shut the door behind him. Locked it. Hands still shaking, Dale sank into his chair, setting down his things.
He could trust Sam. He’d chatted with Sam ever since Sam began working in the bookstore six years back. Sam was a cheery omega who pointed out all the things Dale looked for, even the simplest pencils and plastic files. Never once had he gossiped, or shared someone else’s secrets with Dale.
Their secret was safe with Sam.
He powered on his laptop, picking at the plastic wrap around his sandwich. Then he nibbled on it. The tuna-and-mayo filling was light on his tongue, moist, flavorful chunks of fish.
In the bookstore, Felix Brentwood had sniffed at Dale, his eyes lighting up at the scent of pregnancy. Dale had been quietly glad when Felix waited until they were hidden by shelves of snacks, before he asked, Is it a wanted child?
Very much so, Dale had answered.
That alpha with you?
Dale had nodded, and Felix had beamed, squeezing Dale’s hand. If Felix had known that Dale and Greg were teacher and student, Dale was sure his reaction would be different. But Felix didn’t know, and in those minutes, he’d let himself soak up Felix’s excitement.
When is it due? Felix had asked, hugging his daughter close. Is your alpha taking care of you? Is this your first child?
Dale had answered his questions, bubbles of joy rising in his chest. In those moments, he’d thought of himself and Greg as alpha and omega, and nothing else. And that thought had lifted a weight off his shoulders.
He liked Greg as his alpha. Greg brought him lunch, joked with him, promised to listen if Dale had problems.
I love you, Greg had said this morning.
Dale’s throat tightened. He didn’t know if the ache in his chest was love. But he did know that they couldn’t get married, not when Greg was so young. Hell, Greg might not even know what he wanted—Dale hadn’t. Dale had been married at twenty, and he’d followed Charles’ desires, staring at pregnancy tests, hoping to see two blue lines.
Greg was twenty-two. To bind him into a marriage... It was unthinkable.
Dale opened his email, nibbling on his sandwich. He needed coffee to wake up properly—Greg had banned him from drinking more than half a cup a day. His coffee machine sat neglected in the corner of his office, untouched for weeks.
Months ago, before Greg, Dale had had breakfast at his desk every morning, the coffee machine gurgling as it kept him company. Ever since Greg moved into Dale’s apartment, they had had breakfast together every day. Dale hadn’t realized how much less lonely he was, until now.
He focused on the screen. At the top of his unread emails, there was a quick note from June.
Dale—Read this first.
He winced, clicking on it. June rarely had urgent news; she was training to become an assistant professor, and Dale relied most heavily on her to run the lab.
Just received word - a group in Texas State U is also working on nano Au-enzyme synthesis. Same materials as ours. They’re projecting research completion to be the end of this month. Our estimate was completion next month. Penny and I are working on the project now. Gonna be lots of OT, but we can get an article submitted in 3 wks if we hurry. -June
Dale held his breath. If the Texas State U group published the same synthesis method before Dale’s group did, they’d have a higher chance of catching someone’s eye. Especially if that someone was a large biosensor company. And the company could well offer the Texan group a research grant, instead of Dale’s group.
Dale rubbed his temples, sighing. If he lost a grant... his chances of tenure would slip further. Bernard Hastings would look down his nose at Dale, asking what Dale did
