It would be easier if there were awkward first-date jitters, but there weren’t. Like every interaction between us, it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Whether it’s romantic or platonic, it feels natural no matter the circumstance. We laughed, gave each other side-eyes during the parts withirritating miscommunication, and both had tears in our eyes at the end when they finally worked it out and confessed their love to each other.
Not taking Kit’s hand, not relishing in the comfort that he seemingly offers on a silver platter, causes me to feel a deep sense of remorse. But the worry in me overrides that need for his refuge, and the conflict causes a slight twinge in the pit of my stomach.
If my stress was going to cause a flare-up, it would have happened by now, so—luckily—I don’t have to worry about that one creeping up on me. I can just get through the date and swallow the regret like a horse pill later.
Now, we’re parked outside a local gelato shop downtown, a place that Kit says is his favorite in the entire state. I have to say, I agree. The vanilla bean is the perfect texture, and the temperature is cozy inside Sam’s Volvo as we admire the night sky from our heated throne.
“Here, try mine,” Kit says, leaning over to give me a taste of mint-flavored gloriousness. When he ordered it, I knew it was because of what we were discussing earlier tonight. His omega must be feeling disheartened about the situation again, and being close to his alpha even in this small way can help satiate the ache.
I know how that feels more than anything, especially being around all of them so often with no security blanket. So, I take the sample from him, loving the way the mint sits on my tongue. And unexpectedly, like the naughty omega she is, my inner beast sends me a clear picture of Kit and me on our knees for him, letting him spill himself down our throats in a mutual marking.
I squeeze my thighs together and try not to choke as the surprise of it hits me full force.
“Oh no, is it too strong?” he asks, his hand going to myshoulder. I wave him off, but it still takes me a few seconds to find my voice.
“No, no. It’s delicious. It just went down the wrong tube,” I tell him, feeling very hot in this car all of a sudden. To deflect, I give him my cup. “Here, try mine, too.”
He does, and he gives the most pleasing moan that definitely hasn’t read the room because it hits me right where I was trying to distract myself from. “That’s incredible,” he says, before giving it back. “It’s definitely not as strong as mine, but it’s… cozy.”
I smile at that and sarcastically say, “Yeah, cozy is kind of my thing. I don’t know if you caught on to that yet or not.”
“Oh, definitely not,” he plays along. “Rigid and uncomfortable, that’s what I picked up on. I must be mistaken.”
I playfully push his shoulder, my joy genuine. “Kettles and all that.”
“Well, I would have been rigid if I had continued to study biology,” he says. “But now I feel free as a bird.”
I scrunch my face up, humorous confusion on my face. “Why were you doing that?”
“I was going to be a doctor,” he confesses.
My jaw drops. The more I know about him, the more I find him completely and utterly fascinating.
Kit is amused by my reaction. “I know, look at me. I don’t think I’d be taken seriously in any hospital, but I grew up around it. Both of my parents are doctors, and I always assumed I’d follow in their footsteps. My parents thought I was smart enough, and I was interested in some things regarding medicine, so I decided to go for it.” He shakes his head. “But after a semester and a half, I realized it wasn’t for me. There aren’t a lot of omegas in medicine, so I really wanted to help that statistic, give the industry some more credit, but it’s just not my passion. It’s intriguing, but animation is what I’m meant to do.”
The awe that falls over my features is completely involuntary. “Yeah, animation definitely sounds more like your speed. It’s amazing you considered that route, but I’m so happy that you’re doing what you love now.”
He beams, and his joy is so contagious. “It seems like you’re also doing what you love. When did you decide you wanted to be a teacher?”
“Oh, gosh, I was so young,” I reply. “I know video games and anime and everything else that I love are mainstream now, but they didn’t use to be?—”
“Don’t I remember it,” Kit comments, giving me a sympathetic but also joking look.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “So, I got made fun of a lot in middle school. It wasn’t awful, just normal stuff. The other kids thought I was awkward, and it didn’t help that I withdrew into my comfort zone with things that were considered weird. But I had a teacher once who never put up with it, always called out the bullies and openly accepted me. She pulled me aside one day and taught me what projection was, how ‘hurt people hurt people,’ and all of that stuff. I had a huge, supportive family, so I had never thought about it in that way before.” I shrug, looking back on the memory fondly. “I think that’s when the idea of becoming a teacher started entering my mind. I liked the idea of being there for children who need it. Whether it was the projector or the one being projected on, I thought that the world needed more teachers who cared to see between those lines. And I do. Their well-being means so much to me.”
Kit listens intently, just like I knew he would. The words fall out so easily in his company, it doesn’t even feel like I’m thinking back to a less than desirable time in my life. Maybe because I know it’s so far gone, and those moments were truly what helped me become the person I am today.
“You’re a wonder, Opal Morrissey.”
The words are airy, breathy. His eyes look between mine with something close to admiration before snapping down to my lips. Suddenly, the desire I thought I was imagining earlier becomes very,veryreal. I hold in my breath, fear and excitement causing goosebumps all over my body.
Oh, shit. This really is a date. Kit Henderson asked me out on arealdate. Jesus, take the wheel.
I can see it before it happens, his slow, careful descent towards me. It’s almost anxious, the way he discreetly moves toward me like he isn’t sure himself. The unhurried motion gives me time to react irrationally, and I turn my head to avoid the almost-kiss.
I wish he hadn’t given me the choice. His deliberate gentlemanly behavior causes my fears to bubble up. I’d much rather he had decided for me and slammed his lips against mine, because now it’s silent, and I’m too much of a coward to witness the rejection on his face.
My omega sends up a whine, but I swallow down the sound instead of letting it escape. She doesn’t understand; I have to take care of both of us right now.
