“I’m twisted. Don’t question it.” Spike rubbed Micah’s side, rumbling possessively. “But you can ask Kai. Kai can vouch for me.”
Kai snorted. “Yeah, Spike’s twisted, all right. He’s had his eye on Micah since we were, I don’t know. Fourteen?”
Spike shrugged, but he pressed Micah up against Kai, sandwiching Micah between both of them.
“And you’re all...” York waved his finger at the three of them, hesitant to say the words.
“We share a bed,” Kai said. “That’s all you need to know.”
Micah blushed. That, in itself, was far more than he wanted to tell York.
“Yeah, I don’t want to know more,” York said, looking green again. “It just sounds really weird when you call my dad by his name. He’s just ‘Dad’ to me.”
“He’s our omega,” Spike said with a smile. “I haven’t marked him today.”
“Oh, gods.” York grimaced. “I’m out of here. But I need to grab breakfast first.”
York seemed a lot more relaxed around them now, though. As Spike and Kai stepped back so York could grab a plate, Micah approached his son, squeezing his shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”
York slanted a look at him. “I did. But I guess you didn’t.”
Micah laughed awkwardly. “I guess not.”
“You look like a mess,” York said, handing him another paper towel. “I’ll clean up after breakfast.”
“Thanks.” Micah leaned in, pulling York into a hug. “And thanks for giving Kai and Spike a chance.”
Embarrassed, York looked away. “I’m just being nice. Like you asked.”
“That’s not all of it.” Micah grinned. “It takes a lot more than that to change your mind. Ask me how I know.”
York snorted. “They passed a test, I guess. For now. I’m still not happy with them yet.”
Then he scowled over his shoulder at Spike and Kai, and Micah felt a little bit torn between his son and his alphas. But it was better than before.
“I’m sorry,” Micah said, tiptoeing to kiss York on the cheek. “I promise I’ll be more honest from now on.”
York leaned away before Micah’s kiss could land. “As long as you haven’t kissed anything weird with your mouth. You smell like alpha.”
Micah froze, his cheeks burning as he tried to remember if he’d kissed any part of Spike or Kai. He hadn’t done anything this morning, but before he’d gone to bed, he’d sucked Kai off. “If... it was last night, does it count?”
“Ew, Dad!” York pushed him back gently. “Thanks, but no. You gotta brush your teeth first.”
Behind them, Kai coughed lightly. Spike elbowed Kai. Micah sighed, shaking his head.
Things weren’t perfect yet, but if they kept improving... maybe they’d all get to a better place.
25
Micah
Micah hurried into the department office, a sheath of papers in his hands. He was late in submitting his office receipts for reimbursement. The deadline had been an hour ago, but he’d been distracted by his consultation with Kai.
For once, they’d been working on the textbook concepts instead of chatting. There had been the occasional handjob over the last couple weeks, too, but that had been rare and risky, and Kai had stopped when Micah started to panic.
It was difficult not to drift off-topic, though, when Kai had glimpsed the bundle of unused red pens in Micah’s pen-holder. He’d started telling Micah about Spike dragging him to the store, musing over which brand and ink color Micah would like.
Other times, Kai talked about the one wrinkled photo that Spike had sneaked onto Micah’s desk—Spike and Kai at an amusement park, back when they were fourteen—and other times, it was the spare pair of shorts that had mysteriously ended up in Kai’s satchel, instead of Spike’s.
It was easy, talking to Kai now that they were familiar with each other.
Unlike Spike, who was all jokes and grins, Kai chatted in a serious, interested sort of way. He leaned in, his gaze fixed on Micah the whole time, and he listened. It was nice. Micah looked forward to their consultations together.
The chemistry department office smelled like printer ink and peach air freshener, like it always did. Micah ducked behind the receptionist’s counter, setting his stack of paperclipped receipts into the inbox.
A couple of low voices drifted over from the back. Lunch hour meant there wasn’t a soul in sight—just a sea of deserted cubicles, and locked computer screens.
Micah had been about to slip back out of the office, when someone said. “I won’t approve his scholarship appeal. Kai Ventura should never have received a scholarship in the first place. Strip the rest of his scholarship. Revoke his enrollment.”
Micah froze, hardly even breathing.
Now that Kai’s ankle had healed and he could play basketball again, he had appealed for a reassessment of his scholarship reduction. To an outsider, it looked as though Kai stood a decent chance of getting his scholarship back.
“C’mon, Bernard,” the other voice said. “He’s got the talent to put Meadowfall College into the big games. Verified by the coach. You want the visibility, don’t you? More visibility, more students, more profit. You told me that yourself.”
Micah froze. Bernard was here? His stomach turned. He still remembered the harsh words from when he’d dated Bernard—You aren’t worth so much—and later, when he’d begged Bernard for a position in the college. Only because I haven’t seen anyone more pathetic than you.
The less Micah saw of Bernard, the less power Bernard would have over him.
“No,” Bernard answered, his voice awful and grating. “Find a way to drop him. I want him out of here.”
“What’s wrong with him?” the other voice asked. Micah recognized it as the chemistry department head, Harold Saxon. The one who had been firing professors for having relationships with their students.
I shouldn’t be here, Micah thought, his heart racing. This is too risky.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Bernard said, his tone clipped. There was something he didn’t like about Kai.
Apparently, Harold recognized it, too. “What kind of dirt you got on him?” he asked, barely audible.
Micah knew he should leave right then. But he needed to know, too. Just in case this put Kai at
