Page 88 of The Rejected Omega

Mac’s house is in the nice part of town, and his home always felt like more of a home to me than the series of bug-infested apartment complexes I’d shuffled between growing up.

I park in the Masters’ horseshoe driveway and ring the doorbell, swinging the keyring around my finger as I wait. Mac answers in sweatpants and one of his fitted Under Armour shirts, his hair rumpled like he just woke up from a nap.

“Lana. Why didn’t you just come in?”

I shrug. “Maybe you’ve finally got a new lady friend.”

He snorts and steps back, gesturing for me to come inside. "Right."

Then his head whips back to me, and he inhales deeply. His eyes go wide.

“You and Connor?—”

I wince. He knows. Of course he knows. Connor’s scent is going to be inextricable from mine for a bit.

“I take it he hasn’t been by yet.”

“Your heat?”

I nod stiffly.

Mac breaks into a wide grin. “Holy shit. I thought it’d never happen.”

I scrunch up my face and follow Mac inside to the kitchen.

“I thought you knew. I’ve had the Miata for a week?—”

“Yeah, it’s got GPS on it. I figured your car finally bit the dust and Connor lent it to you. That, or you wanted to indulge in a little grand theft auto.”

“Well, now that I know you don’t mind it disappearing…”

Mac pulls two beers out of the fridge and cracks them open, passing me one.

“I can’t believe it. Finally! When’s the wedding?”

The casual jab hits like a gut punch. I look away, unable to hold his gaze.

Mac’s smile falters. “What happened?”

“It’s temporary.”

“What do you mean, ‘temporary’?”

“He didn’t bite me, Mac.”

“You bite him?”

I give a little nod.

Mac swears under his breath and takes a long swig of beer.

“Fucking idiot. God, he gets it honest. Don’t worry, Lana. I’m not gonna let him fuck this up again.”

If only."Not your problem then, not your problem now."

I nurse the beer, but my stomach is swirling too much to really enjoy it.

“Look, I just wanted to drop off the car. Figure he'll be by sooner or later. I’m gonna go. I’ve got a lot to do.”

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