Kade shrugs. He’d bought it for himself, but these days, Felix’s appetite varies so much that he can’t tell what his omega wants to eat anymore. “Take it. I bought extra anyway.”
Felix pulls the containers out with a grin. “I can’t decide which to eat first.”
“Eat them all at the same time.” Kade pulls the tab on his soda, sipping from it.
When he sets it down, Felix takes the can, sipping from it, too, and Kade can’t help thinking it’s sort of like a kiss. Except now he wants to kiss Felix for real. And Felix is sitting a foot away on the counter, pulling the lid off the tuna salad with a predatory look in his eyes.
Kade swallows, looking down at his meatball sandwich.
“I’ve not been sleeping well,” Felix says. “I feel the baby moving.”
Kade glances at the bulge of his abdomen, wondering if anyone else has noticed it. The bastard manager hasn’t commented on Felix’s pregnancy. If he does, Kade will break his jaw. “Didn’t know it moves this early.”
“It’s been moving for a while now. Not often, but sometimes. Maybe once every hour, or thirty minutes. Like a little squirm, you know?” Felix cradles his stomach, looking down at it. His expression softens, and Kade wants him to look at their child like that, a baby they create together. “You could... I mean, if you wanted to touch it, you could feel it move, I’m sure.”
A wave of scarlet sweeps through Felix’s cheeks. Kade stares. So maybe Felix has introduced him to the baby. But Felix also knows he can’t touch that baby. It’s not his. Touching it would feel like accepting a betrayal. But Felix is his bondmate, and Kade can’t abandon him, or his child. “You want me to touch it?”
Felix shakes his head vehemently. “No! No, I-I just meant it’s possible for someone on the outside to feel it move.”
“Oh.” But Kade can’t help thinking about touching Felix now, just setting a hand on his abdomen, feeling the heat of him through his clothes. He looks back at his seafood pasta, shoveling it into his mouth. It’s not his baby. It’s not his right, either.
They eat in silence, watching as cars pull in and out of the station, the occasional customer walking into the store. Kade drains the soda, then the next can, and he starts eyeing the slushie machines to the side of the counter. Orange slush would be good. Or cola or wild berry smoothies.
When they finish dinner, Kade drops the empty boxes in the bin outside. He steps back in, heads to the machine, and pulls a plastic cup from the stack.
“I’ve never tried those,” Felix says, watching him. “But now I’m curious.”
“Which flavor do you want?”
“Strawberry,” Felix says, his tongue darting over his lips. Kade shakes away his wandering thoughts, then pulls down the machine’s handle.
The machine rumbles, something inside clanking and loud. He frowns, releasing the knob.
Felix rounds the counter to stand next to him. “It shouldn’t be doing that. It was fine this morning.”
Kade nods at the handle. “You do it, then.”
Felix reaches over, pulling down the handle. The machine grumbles again, pink slush swirling behind its circular window. The clanking grows louder, like a train rushing toward a station.
In slow motion, the window of the machine breaks. Pink slush gushes out like a creature vomiting, pouring wet and icy over Kade’s shirt, down his pants, and onto the floor at his feet. It steals the heat from his chest, sticky and goddamn cold. Kade turns to Felix, whose eyes have gone wide. The pieces of plastic window clatter on the tiled floor at their feet.
“What the fuck,” Kade says.
“I don’t even,” Felix says, looking from the machine’s whirring stirrer, to the bright pink splash on Kade’s abs, to the puddle growing on the floor. “What.”
Kade groans, pulling his shirt off. All he wanted was a drink. And now he needs a shower if he wants to feel clean. “This is a damn mess,” he says, balling up the shirt to wipe down his stomach. “It broke like a fucking toy.”
“I should clean it up.” Felix steps away from the puddle before it reaches his shoes, hurrying to the backroom. Seconds later, he returns with a wad of paper towels. “Here, take this first.”
“Is that bastard going to blame you for this?” Kade nods at the machine. “He was pissed when I broke the pump screen.”
“He shouldn’t. It was a malfunction.” Felix studies it, frowning. Rick has been reasonable at times, particularly if Felix gets Susan to help with the explanations. But it’s sweet of Kade, thinking of the consequences of this.
Kade nods, satisfied with his answer. Felix wants to hug him.
Felix wipes a paper towel across Kade’s abs, the rough material of it catching on his skin. The paper tears. Felix grimaces, then moves the towel further down, dabbing at the bright pink stains on Kade’s jeans.
“Looks like I pissed myself,” Kade says. “Except it’s pink.”
“It’s not coming off,” Felix mutters. He grabs a thicker wad of paper towels, pressing it right over Kade’s groin. “Think it’ll soak up like that? You might have to take this off too.”
“You think?” Kade asks, his voice dipping low. They’re in a convenience store, and Felix’s hand is a stack of paper away from his cock.
Felix’s touch stills right over his groin. His eyes flicker up to Kade’s, wide and green, and he flushes. “I shouldn’t be doing this at work,” he says, squeezing lightly. “I am, uh, caring for the customer.”
Except his palm grinds down on Kade’s groin, and Kade grows half-hard, despite the cold seeping into his body. “This is caring, huh?”
“This is caring,” Felix says, smiling. “But you may have to clean up somewhere.”
“Are you cleaning me up?”
Felix’s nostrils flare, and he glances around the store. “You should probably do that yourself.
