She clears her throat dramatically. “Well, first you must hold your pinky just so,” she demonstrates with her teacup, “and then you must say ‘bloody hell’ at least three times per sentence.”
“Bloody hell, that’s brilliant!” I play along, attempting my own accent.
“Bollocks! You sound like Dick Van Dyke inMary Poppins.”
We dissolve into giggles, and for a moment I forget everything—my complicated life, my recent heartbreak—including the fact that this beautiful girl is technically my student. But when was the last time I laughed like this? Really laughed until my stomach hurt and tears pricked my eyes? Years. It’s been years. The realization sobers me slightly.
Jolie must notice the shift in my mood because she settles back against my chest, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my sweater. “This is nice,” she says softly.
“It is.” I stroke her hair, dark strands sliding through my fingers like silk. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How easy this feels.”
“Mmm. Omegas aren’t supposed to get along this well. We’re supposed to be competitive, enemies…territorial.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re female and I’m male,” I suggest. “Different dynamics.”
She tilts her head to look at me. “Or maybe we’re just both tired of pretending we don’t need a connection.”
The honesty in her voice makes my chest tight. When did I become so starved for simple human warmth that sitting with a student on my couch feels like the most intimate thing I’ve done in years?
“Can I tell you something?” I ask.
She nods against my chest.
“I was the quiet kid at school. The only male Omega in my year, maybe in the whole district. Nobody knew what to do with me. Not the teachers, not the other students, certainly not my parents.” The words come easier than I expected. “I spent most of high school convinced I was some kind of mistake.”
Jolie’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently. “It took me years to feel worthy of love. To believe that being an Omega didn’t make me less than.” I pause, remembering those dark years of self-doubt. “And then one day, this pack approached me. Three Alphas who said all the right things, made all the right promises. They courted me properly, made me feel cherished, special.”
“What happened?”
My throat tightens. “They brought home a female Omega. A scent match for one of them. Suddenly I went from beloved pack member to...an inconvenience.”
Jolie sits up completely, turning to face me. Without a word, she wraps her arms around me, holding me tight. The simple comfort of it nearly undoes me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers against my neck. “That’s awful.”
“It would be worse if I’d been claimed, but they obviously didn’t feel me.”
Her breath hitches. “Feel you. That’s the missing thing, isn’t it? Everyone talks about scent matches, but I don’t have that yearning for perfumes. I have a deep need to feel someone.”
I smile and nod. “Exactly.”
“Can an Omega feel another Omega?” she asks.
“I believe so. I also think being an Omega doesn’t mean you have to accept whatever scraps Alphas offer you.”
We hold each other for a long moment, sharing the weight of similar pain. Finally, she pulls back, her amber eyes serious.
“Can I tell you my story?”
I nod, settling back against the couch cushions as she finds her words.
“My stepfather,” she begins hesitantly. “He was...he planned to claim me, and keep me pregnant for years, and then he was going to sell off my Omega children.”
“Fuck!”
“My mother and I ran. We’ve been running ever since.” The simple statement carries enormous weight. I can see the cost of telling me in the tension around her eyes, the way her hands tremble. I know she wants to tell me more, but I won’t push her until she’s ready.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For trusting me with that.”