So he’d blurted Charles’ name, and Greg had glared at him, ferocity glimmering in his eyes.
Dale bit his lip, his heart wrenching.
He stepped up to the tall mirrors over the sinks. In the silvery surfaces, he saw the mess that was himself: droopy mouth, bonding scar on his neck, streaks of gray through his hair. Next to Penny and Greg, he’d felt immensely old.
Bernard Hastings was ten years older than Dale. There was no way he’d accept Dale marrying Greg, not when Dale had seen the mix of disapproval and pride in Bernard’s eyes. The college president loved his son. But he also had high hopes for Greg, and Dale... would only weigh Greg down.
By the time their baby was ten, Greg would be thirty-two, and Dale would be fifty-two.
Dale cringed. Would their child be embarrassed by Dale at school? Would Dale still be healthy at that age?
He held his hands under the automatic faucet, watching as cool water drizzled onto his skin. In the shower an hour ago, Greg had hugged him, cleaning around the plug in his body. It sat inside him now, warm and heavy like an egg, a reminder of when Greg had slid it in, his eyes dark with promise.
If they went through more introductory dinners with other younger, better omegas, then Greg would surely leave Dale. Bernard would somehow convince Greg of other better omegas, and he would leave Dale tonight; Dale had seen the way Greg looked at Penny, and that interest could be genuine with someone else.
Dale hugged himself, the damp from his fingers soaking through his sleeves. Your body is rotten, Charles’ parents had told him. We’re embarrassed to be seen with you.
At some point, Dale would grow older. And Greg would really look at Dale, and realize the sort of relationship he’d gotten himself stuck in.
When that truth finally sank in, Greg would leave him like Charles had all those years ago.
His heart hurting, Dale wiped away the fresh tears in his eyes.
The washroom door opened. Dale tensed, turning to the urinals. No one cried at the most expensive restaurant in town. People did their business, and left.
“Hey,” Greg said behind him.
Dale turned, his heart missing a beat. The sight of his alpha eased the tension in his shoulders. Black eyes glimmering with concern, Greg stepped forward as the door closed, pulling Dale into his arms.
“Wanna go home?” he murmured. “You’re not looking so good.”
Is that because I’m old, or because I’m crying? Dale sagged against his chest, running his hands down Greg’s spine. Greg smelled like aspen, like comfort. “I’ll be fine,” Dale said.
The creases on Greg’s forehead deepened. “You’re not fine. I’ve never seen you step into the alpha washroom before.”
“Oh. I did?” In his rush to get away, Dale hadn’t thought the pine scent meant anything. He should’ve been more aware than this.
“I checked in the omegas’, but you weren’t there.”
“Did anyone squeak?” Dale chuckled weakly.
“No, but I didn’t smell you in there.” Greg rubbed down Dale’s back, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I can’t hold you for long. Someone might come in. Just wanted you to know I lo—”
“I know. You don’t have to say it,” Dale mumbled, looking down. Maybe he shouldn’t hear it, if Greg would be leaving him anyway.
Greg cupped his cheeks, the calluses of his hands catching on Dale’s skin. Then he tipped Dale’s face up, forcing Dale to meet his eyes. “You still feel the plug?”
Dale nodded.
“Give it a squeeze.”
“I am.” It sat wide inside him, keeping him open for Greg. He’d felt it every time he squirmed at the table.
“That’s my knot inside you,” Greg whispered. “I’m your alpha.”
Dale nodded, his chest squeezing. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that the solid, smooth weight inside him was his alpha’s. Was Greg touching him intimately, even here. Heat prickled on his cheeks. “I want today to be over,” Dale said.
“I know.” Greg dipped his head, brushing his lips over Dale’s, a quick, light touch. “Love you.”
Dale gulped. “I know.”
With his thumbs, Greg wiped the tears off his cheeks. Then he turned Dale toward the sinks, standing next to him, close enough their arms touched. Dale leaned into his bicep, breathing in, admiring Greg’s face in the mirror.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Dale said. “About Charles.”
Greg narrowed his eyes. “Baby’s mine. Not that bastard’s.”
A thrill shot down Dale’s spine. He opened his mouth, about to say It’s yours, when the restroom door opened. Dale jerked his gaze toward the faucet.
“Dad,” Greg said. “Is the first course there yet?”
Dale’s heart sank. Why does it have to be my boss? He looked up just as Bernard’s eyes flickered between him and Greg. “It’s there,” Bernard said. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Dr. Kinney.”
“I brought him here,” Greg said, shifting to put himself between Dale and his father. It was a protective gesture, and Dale wasn’t sure Bernard read it that way. “I couldn’t go into the omega’s restroom.”
“Ah.” Bernard stepped around him, studying Dale. His gaze lingered on the damp splotches on Dale’s sleeves. “Are you all right, Dr. Kinney? You seem a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” Dale said, forcing a brighter smile. “Thank you, sir. I’d best be heading back.”
As he strode out of the washroom, Bernard said, “Drying your hands on your clothes, son? I didn’t raise you to do that.”
Dale’s cheeks burned. He checked his hands halfway down the corridor, grimacing at damp creases of his fingers. The hug had been impulsive, and he’d forgotten about leaving behind handprints. I hope Bernard doesn’t figure it out.
He only remembered to breathe back in the dining room. Penny picked at her salad, looking up when Dale returned. “Are you okay, Professor?”
Dale laughed weakly. “Probably. It’s not so bad.” He sat gingerly in his seat,
