Page 12 of Faking It with the Omega

His breath is warm and sweet against my ear as he sighs gently, and I can sense the moment the tension leaves his body, his orange blossom scent deepening as mine wraps around him. When we pull back just a fraction, he’s so close I can see the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

His gaze drops from my eyes to my lips. And fuck, I want to kiss him. My heart is hammering an unsteady rhythm against my ribcage, and it occurs to me that despite everything else we’ve done tonight, I still don’t know what his lips feel like against mine. And I know that he wants it too; the soft heat behind his eyes, the way his lips part ever so slightly, his head angled just so. All it would take would be for me to lean in, and…

I pull back. I clear my throat. Because as much as I want to, Aiden is more than a little tipsy, and he’s been made to feel like shit by his dad, and tonight has already been a mindfuck for both of us. So the last thing he needs is an alpha who’s meant to be his friend taking advantage of that.

A flash of something sad crosses over Aiden’s face, before a yawn cuts it off.

He hums sleepily. “Do I have to get out of the car now?”

“If you want to go to bed, then yeah,” I say.

Aiden makes a soft, disgruntled noise, but flops closer to the car door and manages to tug on the handle.

“Need me to make sure you get inside okay?” I say as he opens the door, because I’m more than a little worried he might not be able to get his own keys in the door.

“No. If anyone tries to get me, I’ll beat them up.” He makes a karate chop motion and kicks one leg in the air, and it makes my heart squeeze so hard I think I stop breathing for a full five seconds.

And I’m not sure why, but that’s the moment. Not smelling his scent for the first time, or watching him come, or the night spent holding his hand and feeling like the luckiest alpha in the room. No, it’s watching Aiden karate kick his way back to his apartment like a cute, drunk, oversized toddler that makes me realize that I might be in trouble.

Because my heart feels like I’ve just gone ten rounds in the ring, and all I can think about is doing this again. Seeing him again, and smelling him again, and making him laugh again.

But I don’t feel this way about clients, and I don’t feel this way about other omegas. Ever.

So I stay in my car until I see the light come on in his apartment, so I know that he hasn’t broken his ankle on the stairwell or dropped his keys down a vent. And then I stay there for a little while longer, smelling his orange blossom scent clinging to my truck’s upholstery, and hoping it doesn’t fade.

Aiden

“Don’t.”

That’s the first thing I say to Jed the next time I walk into The Foundry. I’m not there for a session, just a regular workout after clocking out of the office, but I spot Jed heading towards me as soon as I set my things down next to the free weights.

He stares at the finger I’m holding up and laughs so loud it echoes around the cavernous space. “I was going to say hello! Is that not allowed anymore?”

”No, you weren’t,” I grunt, picking up two heavy dumbbells from the rack. “We never speak of Saturday night again.”

He leans against a nearby pull-up bar and watches as I start a set of bicep curls. “Why? I had a delightful time.”

”I’m sure you did,” I grunt. “Plying me with alcohol and watching me embarrass myself.” I cringe at the slightly hazy memory of asking Jed to scent me in his car after the party, the headache long gone but the shame still painfully fresh. I also think I might have called one of my uncles a goblin, but I can’t be entirely sure.

”You plied yourself with alcohol, thank you very much,” he grins. “And you weren’t embarrassing. You were adorable.”

I feel a pleased little thrill at his words but push it down with another bicep curl. I know he’s just teasing me, like he does to everyone. “Please fuck off.”

“You didn’t seem to mind me calling you cute on Saturday.” He raises an eyebrow, and I can literally feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

I lose count of my reps and drop the dumbbells with a harsh exhale. “I know you’re just trying to torture me.”

“I think it’s working,” he grins.

“I think it’s unprofessional,” I say, although there’s no bite behind it. “Shouldn’t you be teaching a class or something?”

He checks his watch. “Not for another half hour. That’s thirty whole minutes of let’s torture Aiden time.”

I shake my head, biting back a smile and focusing on racking my weights so I don’t have to look at him for too long, because every time I do, all I can think about is what he looked like fending off my dad’s jibes at the party, and how his arm felt around my waist, and what he sounded like when he came. And from the way his eyes are glinting, I get the distinct feeling he might be thinking the same thing. The last part, at the very least.

Anxiety roils in my gut.

“Look, are we—” I start, unsure how to broach the subject without sounding like a complete amateur, but also totally incapable of carrying on like nothing’s happened. Like I haven’t felt his cock pulsing on my tongue. I drop my voice until it’s barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning, and finally meet Jed’s eyes. “We got each other off in my fucking hallway, Jed. So can we just… are we cool? Or are things gonna be totally weird now?”