His stomach dropped. “It’s Dale’s birthday?”
“He never told you?”
“It never came up.” Greg winced, thinking about Dale hurt and jobless, fired the day before his birthday. If he’d known... He’d been such a bastard alpha. “Oh, hell.”
“Give him some time to recover. You’ve hurt him enough.”
Knowing was one thing. Having another alpha tell him that... Greg flinched, ashamed of himself. “I don’t need you to tell me.”
June shrugged, sympathy in her eyes. “Dale’s been a professor for ten years,” she said. “If he were an alpha, he would’ve gotten his tenure by now.”
Greg’s heart sank. Omegas in Meadowfall were treated well—better than in some other parts of the United States. But Dale had never mentioned the double standards in his employment here. Greg rubbed his face, wishing he could’ve done more to help. Wishing he wasn’t twenty-two, and with hardly any influence on anything. “I hate this.”
“Thing is, he’s been saving up,” June said. “He can afford to be alone for a while. You don’t have to think you need to provide for him.”
She meant Dale doesn’t need you, and for a moment, Greg’s breath caught. “I—”
“Sort out what you want in life,” June said. “That’s what he wants for you.”
“He won’t even answer my calls.”
June studied him, as though she was deciding how much she wanted to share. “Look, I’m getting married in four months. He’s agreed to be my best omega.”
Greg opened his mouth, his heart thudding. Before he could answer, June continued, “I can invite you to the wedding, if you’d like. But you won’t be allowed to talk with him until after the ceremony. I won’t have you scaring him off.”
She met his eyes, honesty in her expression. And Greg felt guilty for all the times he’d glowered at her, thinking she was Dale’s alpha. “Thanks. That’s really generous of you. I mean, I was a bastard to you at the start of the semester.”
June cracked a smile. “Anything for Dale, really.”
Greg nodded, looking down the corridor again. Was Dale still around? Could he salvage this?
“I wouldn’t speak to him again this soon,” June said, releasing his arm. “You know why he became a professor, don’t you?”
He stared at her, about to speak when he realized he didn’t know. Dale had never mentioned it. “No. Why did he start teaching?”
“Because it was his second chance at proving that he could do something right. You know how upset he was by his infertility.” June stared hard at him. “Tenure was his stretch goal.”
Greg froze, horror creeping through his veins. Even if Dale had a baby now, it didn’t mean he should be robbed of his other dream. Especially when the pregnancy wasn’t guaranteed to be a success. “I...”
“Think about it,” June said, patting his shoulder. “I warned him at the start, but I think you knew the risk you were both taking.”
He nodded, his heart heavy with regret. Did Dale hate him now? Greg had shattered his dreams, and he didn’t have the power to restore Dale’s job. He looked down the corridor, wondering if Dale was still around. If Dale would even want to speak to him again.
“I’ll be in the lab,” June said. “Drop by if you need questions answered.”
Greg trudged to Dale’s office, his heart aching at how his omega must be feeling. He’d known that Dale had been upset about his infertility, but to have the professorial job be this important...
The office door was locked when he reached it. There were no sounds from within, and Greg waited outside, hoping to hear movement inside the room.
Five minutes passed. He heard nothing, and only smelled a faint hibiscus scent leading away from the office door. Had Dale already left? Greg swore, jogging down to the parking lot. June had delayed him on purpose.
Dale’s car was no longer parked next to his. On the asphalt next to the Porsche, something glimmered.
When Greg reached his car, he realized that the shine came from shards of glass—a sugar jar had smashed on the ground, a tiny metal spoon left among the scattered white granules. It was one of Dale’s favorite spoons, too, one with a cross-hatched pattern on its handle.
He’d been in a hurry to leave. Greg swallowed, crouching to pick up the spoon. Scratches marred the back of it. He wiped it off on his jeans, before rounding his own car.
Dale didn’t want to see him again. He hadn’t stopped to talk, even when he’d probably recognized Greg’s car next to his.
And that told Greg everything he needed to know. June had tried to give him hope. But Dale himself was no longer interested in this relationship—Greg had fucked up way too badly.
Maybe Dale was right. Maybe Greg was too young for someone like him.
Greg slid the metal spoon into his pocket, furious with himself.
Hours later in his own apartment, Greg stared blankly at his textbook. His last exam was tomorrow, and he couldn’t concentrate.
Weeks ago, he’d been looking forward to the end of finals. He’d planned on building a pillow nest, lining up a menu, charging up their phones so they wouldn’t need to leave the bed. They’d spend all day snuggled together, and Greg would devote hours to touching every inch of Dale’s skin.
He was back in his own apartment now, the luxurious decor alien after weeks of comfort and warmth.
This was not his home. None of this was—not the shelves of comic books, not the lavender-scented bed, not the polished shine of his kitchen.
Home was back with Dale, with the paper cranes hanging in the bedroom, the mosaic walls in the bathroom, the memory of his omega curled up in their bed, cotton sheets slipping off his shoulder.
He fought down the pang in his stomach, sick with longing. You’re not my alpha, Dale had said. Except when Greg thought omega and bondmate, all he remembered was Dale’s smile, the warm glow of his eyes. The way Dale’s belly was soft under his touch, the way he
