Page 53 of Knot So Social

Simon hoists himself up on the tabletop beside the center-issued laptop and studies me, his eyes tinged with sleep shadows. “So, what do you think?”

I shake my head. “I’m a bit overwhelmed, to be honest. How do you not worry every single minute you’re with an omega?” I tap the wide computer monitor. “I mean temperature checks, wellness checks, self-control.”

Simon scoffs, but it doesn’t seem ill-natured. “The clinic has to go through all this with you, legally speaking. But once you get in the room, your instinct kicks in at another level. You crave making her, or him, comfortable. You catch every nuance in their scent.” He claps a big hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry so much, my friend. Alpha instinct is a force of nature.”

“Have you had any real emergencies?”

“Hmm.” He tips his water bottle up, gaze sliding away from me as he drinks and wipes his mouth. “Yeah, once or twice. Sometimes you just can’t get the heat fever down, no matter what you do. Occasionally it’s because the omega has severe trauma. But in my experience, most of those cases come through the emergency station here.”

He hooks a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the first floor. “You know, the ones who’ve been abandoned mid heat, or live with betas who don’t know how to help them but are afraid of authorities. Stuff like that.” He covers a yawn. “Man, I’m beat.”

“Just coming off duty?”

“Yep, and she went longer than usual. Six days.”

I blink in surprise. “Can one alpha handle that alone?”

Simon holds his hand out flat and wobbles it from side to side. “Depends on the client. The calm ones, yes. The wild ones? Not so much. They get several alphas who take shifts or work together, as do the omegas who request multiple service officers.”

He hoists himself off the table and rubs his face with his shirt. “Shit, sorry I forgot how much I smell. Didn’t mean to wave that in your face.”

I chuckle. “Part of the job, right?”

He winks. “You catch on quick. Well, I’ll be seeing ya.”

“Simon, wait.”

He pivots by the door, chin lifting.

“Um, how do you get used to walking away from them? No emotions and all that.”

He glances both ways out the door and scans the office before answering. “It’s just sex, man. Yes, we take care of them, but at the end of the day, they’re using us to fix a biological urge, so no need to make it something grander than it is.” He shrugs. “You get too sensitive about it, and this job will tear you to pieces. Now, I really need to crash.”

With a wave, he disappears.

His answer settles inside me like a sliver of ice.

I mean, it’s not surprising . . . that’s what I’ve been telling myself for days. But I don’t seem to believe it yet, or rather, I’m doubting my ability to be so detached.

I return to my studies, immersing myself in omega law. Besides monitoring the omega’s physical health, the thing that’s being most stressed is bonding rules. Under no circumstances can I bond a client. Outside of an employment contract, the act carries a penalty of years in jail and a fine, plus covering medical expenses to undo the bond.

In a position of trust like this service? Gross negligence and abuse of power also get tacked onto the charges.

My kit includes a silicone mouth guard to use if I have any inkling of desire to bond.

“Jeremy?” Someone knocks on the door.

I jerk, knocking my mouse to one side.

“Gosh, sorry,” Debbie says, striding in. “You must’ve been deep in concentration.”

“Omega law. Heavy stuff,” I offer with a lame grin.

She returns my smile. “I’ve got the profile of your first client here. Her name is Willow Sheldon. Thirty-two years old.” She places a black folder on the desk next to me. “This is her confidential file, which does not leave this center. You’ll get access on your clinic-issued device once you’re certified.”

I nod and draw the folder closer, my stomach fizzing. Flipping it open reveals a double-sided sheet. The woman’s profile photo drills into me, her intense gaze seeming to peer through the very paper. Blonde, blue eyes, a casual arrogance in her posture that asks what are you looking at?

She’s fucking beautiful.