Page 17 of With A Little Luck
The noise of the printer starting fills the air, and I flip over to the file for the contract and print three copies of it.
“Not to be a nosy asshole, but what is this?” Hart asks, shaking the brochure. “Are you thinking about applying to be matched?”
“No,” I blurt out and pause. “I mean, not really. I don’t know. The doctor has been pushing for me to be matched, or at the very least do visits with volunteer alphas, but I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“Goddamn, the government is way too pushy about trying to force omegas into bonding.” He frowns at the paper. “Have you considered finding a doctor who won’t try to sell you off like a broodmare?”
“It’s not like that,” I assure him. “Dr. Lindsay is great. Most doctors didn’t want to take on a patient with no insurance, but she’s worked with me every step of the way.” I sigh and shove myself out of the chair. Dropping my purse onto the edge of the desk, I head over to the filing cabinets to grab my stuff off the printer. “It’s complicated. There are some medical things that can pop up for unbonded pregnant omegas. I think she’s just trying to be extra careful.”
“What do you mean,medical things that can pop up for unbonded pregnant omegas?” he growls, pulling the brochure down to look at me over it.
My face burns.
There is no way that I’m getting into pregnant omegas needing alpha pheromones and semen.
That is just not happening.
Talking about it with Dr. Lindsay was embarrassing enough.
I’ll melt into an actual puddle of horrified omega if I have to speak those words aloud to Hart.
“It’s no big deal,” I lie. “I’m figuring it out. There’s a medication I can take instead. It’s just expensive. That’s a big part of why I’m taking the plunge to find roommates.” I smile tightly, crossing the room. I snatch the brochure from his hands and grab my purse. “Thanks for letting me use the printer. I’m beat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that, I bolt from his office before I can embarrass myself even further.
Chapter Six
Hartley
My afternoon passes by falling down a rabbit hole of pregnancy. I’m supposed to be out on the floor, monitoring everything and helping the bartenders once the evening crew comes in. Instead, I spend it glued to the office computer, studying facts about omegas, childbirth, and even what comes after.
Quincy was lying her ass off when she said everything was fine. It’s not even remotely close to okay, and I’m on the verge of losing my shit. That pamphlet for one of the omega sanctuaries specifically had a section on matching with volunteer alphas for a safe and healthy pregnancy.
My deep dive into the depths of the internet proves how dangerous it can be for both mom and baby if the omega doesn’t have contact with alphas during her pregnancy. Which sends me into a spiral of how I’m supposed to offer up my pheromones when Quincy is already so damn skittish.
Snagging my cell phone off the desk, I pull up my brother and wait for the call to connect.
“What’s up?” Harrison asks over the fussy baby wailing in the background.
I sigh.
There’s basically no way I don’t sound like a lunatic right now. “I, uh, need a favor.”
“And what’s that?” he asks. “Shh, I know. We just gotta get the burps out.”
I roll my eyes.
That man used to be right next to me through all-night ragers, and now…
Christ, how times change.
“I need you to kick me out…” I’ve been living with Harrison and his pack since I came to Burlington. Technically it’s our childhood home, which we both inherited when our parents moved to Georgia, but I gifted him my half years ago when I landed my first big contract to play pro football.
“Are you drunk?” Harrison asks, sounding suspicious.
Jesus Christ.
I’m never going to hear the end of this. “No, listen. It’s important…”
