Page 33 of The Rejected Omega

“I don’t know. I’m on fucking edge. Why didn’t you tell me you were hungry? That this was your lunch break.”

I try to pry open the stiff window, but it doesn’t budge.

Then Connor’s body is flush with mine as he reaches both arms around me.

I want to crumple against him. To press against his hips and see if he’s hard.

I can feel his breath against my glands. He muttersfuckunder his breath, then clears his throat. “Let me.”

“Maybe they’re not supposed to open?—”

The window screeches up, letting in a draft of cold, fresh air.

I duck out from under Connor’s arm and move to the far side of the table.

I rip open the plastic bag from the local Tex-Mex place. It’s mediocre, but popular among students for its large portions and cheap prices.

Connor holds the muffin out to me in the palm of his hand.

I roll my eyes, then grab it and stuff it in my mouth. I don’t savor it, just scarf down two too-big mouthfuls and wash it down with my bottled water. It’s still fucking delicious. I wish it tasted like sand.

“Happy?”

“If you need to eat during our sessions, I will take care of it from now on. I don’t want him interrupting us again.”

I glare at him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

I open the Styrofoam lid and frown. The mushrooms are easy enough to pick out, but all of the rice and meat is drowning in a cheese sauce I usually ask for on the side. I hate wasting food, which means I’ll probably suffer through it anyway.

Connor leans over to look at my plate and scoffs.

I stab one of the few cheese-free hunks of chicken with the wobbly plastic fork and glare at Connor. “What now?”

“You don't like mushrooms. And you're lactose intolerant.”

“I'll just pick it off. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. Either he doesn’t care enough to pay attention to what you like, or you don’t trust him enough to tell him.”

“Incisive as ever.”

“So, which is it?”

“Look, I didn’t even know he was coming today. It’s just typical pushy alpha shit.”

There’s an edge to Connor’s face as he asks, “Is hepushywith you often?”

“No. It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

He leans back in his chair with a smirk on his face.

“Friends.He wants to get into your pants, Birdy. An alpha doesn’t bring an omega food unless they want to fuck them.”

“Was that a fuck muffin, then?”

“If you want it to be.”

I go still, fork frozen in midair. All my nerves fire, and I flush down to my toes. It’s the closest he’s ever come to acknowledging that we could be sexually compatible. I’m in over my fucking head.

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