Dale couldn’t help looking up. Don’t go, Greg’s eyes said.
“Sorry. I’ll catch a cab,” Dale mumbled, curling his fingers around his key. He pulled it out of Greg’s pocket, and Greg yanked him close, leaning in for a kiss.
Every cell in his body wanted that kiss. And that meant he had to leave, before everything fell further apart.
He twisted out of Greg’s touch. Stepped into his shoes, striding across the hardwood floors, his footsteps clicking loud in the silence.
Then he pulled the door open, walking out into the cool night air.
The door shut behind him with a note of finality. Dale sucked in a shuddering breath, and crossed the parking lot, hugging himself to ward off the cold.
Back at the apartment, Greg’s silhouette darkened a window. Dale yanked his gaze away, turning down the sidewalk. His heart ached.
Greg never saw his damp cheeks.
27
Greg
Greg spun away from the window, heat bubbling through his chest.
Dale had left. Dale had taken the key, and after all these months of watching his omega, Greg knew he hadn’t just left the apartment. Dale had left him.
And it hurt.
He rounded on his father, glaring. “Damn you. Dale’s my omega!”
Bernard Hastings glanced at the door, unimpressed. “Kinney said it himself—he isn’t. And he’s gone, isn’t he? A good thing, too. I won’t have you bonding with an omega that old.”
“I was gonna marry him. Damn you, and fuck you.”
His father narrowed his eyes. “Watch your tongue, son.”
After all those months of his father ignoring his protests, Greg had had enough of it. “No. I told you when Tony died, and I’ve told you a million times. Fuck my future.”
Bernard clenched his jaw. “Tony is gone. You’ll have to keep facing forward. I did not raise you to destroy your future with such an unworthy omega. I expected you to be above that.”
Why the hell don’t you understand? Greg’s heart pounded. “He’s worthier than you’ll ever be. Dale didn’t bribe me, or seduce me, or any of that shit. And we’re not aborting that child.”
The frown on his father’s forehead deepened. “If you get with him again, I’ll make sure he’ll find no employment in the whole of Meadowfall. That seems to be the only way you’ll end this.”
Greg’s stomach turned into ice. “You can’t do that. That’s illegal.”
“He breached his contract. You should be glad I’m not suing him for two million.” Bernard looked down at him. Greg stood taller, trying to intimidate his father. It didn’t work. “He’s been taking risks with the college’s reputation. I will not have some harebrained omega tarnish my hard work.”
He had a point, and Greg hated it. Hated that it had been a losing battle right from the start. “Dale’s not hare-brained. But I’m not staying in this apartment. I’m not feeding off your money. I don’t need it.”
“And then what? You’ll find a job? With no degree? You don’t even have a mate to boost your status.”
Greg looked down at his wrist, his scent gland free of bonding marks. He’d wanted to exchange marks with Dale, wanted to make him promises, even when he couldn’t.
“I’ll talk to Dale about it,” he said.
Bernard snorted. “I’ll make sure you won’t. But even if you did, he has no job to support the both of you. Without your degree, you’ll get nowhere.”
That wasn’t true. But Greg couldn’t focus on it, not when he’d lost Dale his job. And maybe that was why Dale had gone. Dale loved his lab, his students, and Greg had no power to reinstate it. He’d fucked up.
“I will talk with the apartment manager,” Bernard said. “The apartment’s lease will end this month. You have a choice: move back in with your mother and me, or find your own lodgings.”
“I’m not moving back,” Greg said, his throat tight.
“We’ll see.”
Bernard turned and left. Woodenly, Greg stepped over to the window. He couldn’t have missed the Rolls Royce in The Apex’s parking lot. Gods knew he’d scanned the place for it.
But what he saw was a shiny black vehicle pulling out of the parking lot, instead of the silver car he’d looked for.
Greg dragged his hand over his face, his heart squeezing. He’d told Dale his father had left, when he hadn’t. His dad had probably followed them home.
They’d been caught off-guard, and in the span of an hour, Dale had lost his job. His second home at the college. He’d taken his apartment key and left.
Greg didn’t know how he could fix any of this.
28
Dale
When the alarm clock rang, Dale groaned, cracking open his sleep-sticky eyes. He wanted to burrow into Greg’s warm chest, cuddle up against him. But when he reached across the bed, he found the sheets empty. The bedroom was still dim; the sun hadn’t risen yet.
At first, he’d thought Greg was in the bathroom, or he’d woken up early to make breakfast. But his spot on the mattress was cool, and there was no aroma of coffee, or bacon. Was this another onesie surprise?
Dale trawled through his memories of last night, of Bernard Hastings and the dinner, and Bernard walking in on them.
His stomach twisted.
He’d been fired. And he’d walked out of Greg’s life, knowing Greg could do so much better than him.
Dale wiped the dried tear tracks off his cheeks, dragging himself out of bed. He had to pack the rest of Greg’s things, leave them out on his doorstep. He couldn’t risk bumping into Greg, couldn’t let Greg convince Dale to take him back into his life.
He stumbled to the bathroom, drooping at the sight of Greg’s toothbrush, his razor, his red-and-black can of shaving cream. Any moment now, Dale expected Greg to show up at his door, demanding to be let in. And Dale couldn’t let him destroy
