Back at the apartment, York was still snoring on the couch. Micah had spritzed the scent suppressant all over himself—there was no way he’d let York smell his friends on his father’s skin.
Gods, I slept with York’s friends.
Micah’s face burned. He sprayed the suppressant through the hallway, enough to remove the elm and juniper scents, and some of the musk.
He paused at his bedroom door. Inside, it smelled like Kai and Spike. And their scents had comforted Micah last night, clinging to his skin, surrounding him when he woke.
He couldn’t bear to erase their presence. It had been the most incredible night Micah had had in a while.
So he set the scent suppressant down by his bed, stepped back outside, and popped the morning-after pill before he thought too much about it.
As soon as it slid down his throat, Micah stopped breathing. Did he really want to lose this child? If he conceived...
Kai and Spike had taken a chance with him. Spike had touched Micah with gentle hands. Kai had held Micah against himself. If they gave Micah a baby... the baby would be kind, too, wouldn’t it? It would be strong, and precious. It wouldn’t mind his scars at all.
And regret hit Micah like a punch to the gut.
He staggered to the hallway bathroom, hunching over the toilet. Micah stuck his fingers down his throat, trying to make himself gag.
He gagged. He retched, but the pill stayed in his stomach. Tears prickling in his eyes, Micah hunched over the toilet, his heart thudding dully in his chest.
He was forty-one. Any pregnancy would carry a risk. He should be happy to go without.
But he’d gone years without an alpha—when would he find someone else who would look past his scars? When York moved out to start his own family... Micah would be left alone. If he had a baby...
I won’t have one now.
He sagged against the toilet, tears trickling down his cheeks.
“Dad?” York asked blearily, rubbing at his eyes. Micah didn’t answer. York focused on him then, his gaze sharpening.
“Shit, what happened?” York dropped to a kneel next to Micah, peering worriedly at him.
Micah rubbed his tears away. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
York scowled. “That’s bullshit, Dad.” He swiped at the tears on Micah’s face. “Did someone make you cry?”
Micah shook his head. “I did something stupid. That’s all.”
York frowned. “How would you do anything stupid? You’re a professor!”
That’s the thing, isn’t it? I should’ve known better than to do this with your friends. A dry laugh bubbled through Micah’s chest.
Without waiting for an answer, York pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing his back. “I’m here,” York said, smelling like beer. Micah didn’t have the heart to lecture him about drinking. “I’m gonna protect you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Micah mumbled. “You don’t have to.”
York glowered. “I want to.”
All his life, York had been opinionated. He’d never forgiven Cole, the alpha who had accidentally started the blaze that had given Micah so many nightmares. If York ever found out about Kai and Spike...
If Micah lost York’s respect... what would he have left?
Micah leaned into York, closing his eyes. On any other day, York’s embrace would’ve comforted him. Today, it wasn’t enough. Not when Micah didn’t trust York to stick with him through this mistake.
Not when Micah remembered the heat of two alphas pressed against him, large hands in Micah’s hair, damp lips on his skin.
All night, Micah had relieved those moments in his bedroom. He’d memorized Kai’s touch and Spike’s smile, and their chests surrounding him, their warmth burning through his clothes.
Last night, Micah had felt wanted, and it had been intoxicating.
No more of that, Micah thought, rubbing his scarred hand. I should move on.
* * *
Except moving on was difficult, when you glimpsed those same alphas through the day, stepping in and out of your lectures, their gazes fixed on you.
Micah tried to ignore them, he really did.
Kai kept his distance. Spike sniffed at Micah, and he frowned when he didn’t detect his own scent. Spike had murmured to Kai after that, and Kai had glanced at Micah.
But Kai no longer gave Micah that dubious, judging stare. His eyes held a flicker of warmth now, maybe some trust. Maybe it was because he’d slept with Micah, or maybe it was because Kai had something he could now hold over Micah’s head.
It worried Micah that they were still keeping an eye on him. Surely they’d set their sights on someone else...?
So he avoided their gazes and stayed away. They turned in their group assignment, the sheets of paper smelling like York’s hickory scent, and juniper and elm. Micah shoved that report to the bottom of the pile.
On the following Monday, Micah did a pregnancy test.
The morning-after pill had taken its toll on him. Through the week, cramps had ripped through Micah’s body, and Micah had emptied his stomach into the toilet more times than he wanted to count.
If he’d conceived a baby... It should have been gone. Micah hurt whenever he thought about it.
He flushed the toilet and capped the pregnancy test kit. Washed his hands, set the timer on his phone. Then, ever so discreetly, Micah tucked the kit against himself, and returned to his office.
And now he had fifteen minutes before his next consultation slot—plenty of time for the pregnancy test to be done.
Micah shut his eyes against the too-bright lights of his computer screen, sniffing at the scents of old coffee. He fidgeted with his laptop—at least it was working now.
Scarcely a minute had passed, when a knock came on the door. Voices rumbled outside.
Micah contemplated keeping silent. He didn’t have to answer anyone right this minute. He could float away, imagining soft lips on his skin, sharp teeth on his shoulder, two alphas pressing up against him, strong hands on his hips...
The person knocked again, and the door opened. Micah sat up in his seat. Glanced over.
He should’ve expected the copper gaze and blond hair. And behind Spike, gray eyes
