“What did you do this time?” he groans. “If you’ve scraped the paintwork off Janice again?—”
“I’m with an omega who is going into heat,” I interrupt him. “She needs our help.”
“Wait, what?” His tone sharpens. “If this is another one of your conquests, Ezra, I’ve told you, we’re not interested in casual pack hookups.”
“This is different,” I bark. “She’s a student.”
“A student?!” Hale’s calm demeanor wavers as his voice increases in pitch. “You better have a good explanation for this.”
If it were Calder, he’d be flipping out and calling a lawyer.
“It’s not what you think. Look, I’ll explain everything when I get back, okay? Just get the apartment ready.”
“Isn’t there anyone else who can help?” Hale sounds frantic. “Why does it have to be you?”
“She doesn’t want to go to a heat clinic, and there’s no one else to call. Would you rather I’d left her alone? She needs our help, dude.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Hale sighs. Despite his disapproval, he’s a caregiver by nature. The kinda guy who’d dive off a cliff to save a puppy struggling to swim. “I’ve never met her before, and helping an omega through a heat is a big deal. You know that.”
“Trust me, she’s not exactly thrilled about the idea either. She’s independent.”
“Riven and Calder are out right now,” Hale informs me. “Should I ask them to come home?”
“No.” I’m not going to upset Riven’s routine nor am I ready to deal with Calder’s judgment. “Just you should be fine.”
I hang up before he changes his mind, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten us into and what it is about this omega that I can’t walk away from, even though I know I should.
FOURTEEN
Kady
Being locked in the back of my friend’s professor’s truck after he gave me an incredible orgasm on college property is definitely not how I’d planned on spending my morning. But apparently, the universe has been out to get me since the cursed wedding invitation arrived. What’s this to add to the long list of disasters?
The space is cramped, so I have to adjust my position a few times. I bring my knees up to my chest, but a shovel digs into my back. Ugh. At least the smell of Ezra’s mud-flecked gardening apron isn’t so bad. Despite Ezra temporarily tamping down my urges, being trapped with little ventilation and his scent is making me want to rock against a spade handle to alleviate the building longing in my core.
I wrestle my phone from my purse and try calling Delilah. Her face briefly skitters onto the screen, but then it vanishes. Goddammit. Patchy signal.
My heart hammers. What if Ezra is a serial killer or something? No, he can’t be. Being a professor makes him much less likely to be an axe murderer, right? Still, going to his apartment is better than any alternative. If anyone found out about this and discovered I wasn’t with my “pack,” the ruse would be up.
I can hear Ezra speaking, but I can’t make out the words. When we hurtle over a few speed bumps, throwing me around, I angrily thump on the pane between us, though I don’t dare to shout out in case anyone hears. Does he not know how to turn around corners without jerking the wheel? I wince, trying to concentrate on his terrible driving instead of the stabbing longing bubbling within my core.
Ezra might have been right about my using a heat patch too late. My heats usually come on hard and fast, and it’s clear this one won’t be the exception. There’s no use in fighting it.
I fumble around in the darkness to take my mind off the tingles between my thighs, then close in on something that feels like a mask?
“We’ve left campus.” Ezra calls out. I’ve watched documentaries about killers like Ted Bundy. It’s always the hot ones to look out for. “I’m pulling over.”
I straighten my legs when the car comes to an abrupt stop. Light slips in as the trunk opens, sunlight streaming around the edges of Ezra’s silhouette. He offers his hand, but I bat it away.
“Has anyone told you that you’re pretty terrible at accepting help?”
“I can get out of a truck just fine, thank you very much.” I scowl at him. “Besides, we’re basically strangers.”
“We don’t feel like strangers to me.” He licks his lips to prove his point.
“Why do you have a mask in the back of your truck?” I demand, rubbing the kink in my neck from being curled up.
“This one?” He holds up a beekeeper’s mask. “I used to keep bees. Obviously.”
