Page 17 of Forbidden Taste
RILEY
Nobody told me how hard it was going to be to focus now that I found my mate. Music theory means fuck all to me, the music notes on the page fading into little blobs of black on the page. It’s like I’m constantly searching for Leo’s presence, remember him fucking into me in my nest, and then dwelling on that claiming kiss he gave me right before we left.
It felt like my heart was breaking as we parted ways but I can’t rectify it. Because we both have careers we’re striving for and I won’t be the reason he gives up his. That doesn’t make it any easier to focus and I’ve been so lost in my head that I chose my violin for practice instead of the piano. I haven’t picked that instrument up in months.
I nearly miss my cue to join in on the ensemble, my movements sluggish and distracted. I’m hoping that I’ll get sucked into the music like I always do but my fingers slip, the notes screeching off-key. After the third time, everyone staring at me in confusion,Professor Wilson calls it, dismissing the class with a wave. I sigh in relief but his voice cuts through my haze.
“Riley, stay a moment.”
I groan inwardly, setting my violin down, the small stage beneath me feeling too exposed as he steps up, his graying hair catching the light. He’s an older Beta, with a calm that’s rare among the faculty, and I brace myself as he tilts his head, observing me. “What’s wrong? Does your performance this morning have anything to do with Mr. Haynes?”
Of all my professors, Wilson’s the only one I can be semi-honest with—not completely, not spilling everything about Leo’s knot or the nest, but more than I’d dare with Jameson or the others. I stuff my violin away before slinging my bag over my shoulder. “He makes me feel. But everyone here judges him without even knowing him. He’s soft and sweet, and did you know he sings? I’ve only heard him hum, but he sounds like an angel, Professor.” My chest aches as I say it, the memory of that hum in my practice room flooding back—pure, unguarded,mine.
Wilson smiles, leaning against the edge of the stage as I step down, “it sounds like you’ve found a crush.”
I shake my head. “No. I found my mate. I know it’s rare, and I know we can’t be a pack of our own, but he’s mine. I just wish everyone wouldn’t care so much.” The rumors, the boards, the snickers—I hate how they taint something so perfect. I’m already at the door, hand on the knob when he speaks again.
He crosses his arms, his expression softening further. “Do you want me to listen or do you want some advice?”
“Advice?” I ask, turning around to face my professor.
He chuckles and adjusts his glasses. “Let me ask a question first. Why do you care so much about what everyone elseis saying?”
“I don’t!” My answer is too quick but it’s the truth. “I just don’t like people talking about him. He deserves everything in the whole world.” Leo’s face flashes in my mind—his tears under the willow, his purr in my nest—and I’d fight the entire campus to give him that everything.
Wilson nods, his smile fading into something more serious. “Yes, he does,” he agrees. “But you can’t control what others say, Riley. You can only control what you do.” He shifts, stepping closer, his eyes locking on mine. “I know Leo briefly—sat in on some of his classes with the engineering department. He’s a smart kid, a gentleman, and very observant. He’s also still an Omega, however that manifests between the two of you.” He pauses, reaching into his pocket, and pulls out a worn leather wallet. His fingers fumble for a moment before he unearths a small, creased photo, holding it out to me.
I take it, my violin case resting against my leg as I study the image. It’s Wilson—younger, his hair less gray—standing beside a man with the widest, brightest smile I’ve ever seen, all compact energy and light. Next to him is another, taller, nearly Wilson’s height, with a straight-laced expression, his posture rigid but his eyes soft. “Is this your pack?” I ask, glancing up at him, curiosity tugging at me.
He nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Which one do you think is my Omega?”
I point confidently to the smaller one, the grinning man who looks like he’d fit every Omega stereotype—soft, warm, radiant. Wilson shakes his head, and I frown, caught off guard. “That’s my Alpha,” he muses, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “He’s nearly ten years my junior. My Omega and I are much closer in age.” He taps the taller one, the serious face beside the beaming Alpha, and I stare, my mind tripping over itself.
“Society wants us to believe that Alphas, Betas, and Omegas only come in a few shapes and sizes,” he continues, tucking the photo back into his wallet. “That a small Alpha or a large Omega doesn’t exist. People will talk—they do about my pack all the time. Whispers in the halls, sideways glances at conferences. But it’s whatIdo that’s important.”
I move back into the classroom and lean against a desk, my bag slipping to the floor with a soft thud. “So I’m just supposed to hide Leo away?” I ask, my voice quieter, a thread of frustration weaving through it. The idea of tucking him out of sight—keeping him from the world—makes my stomach twist.
“No. Never that. Show them that you don’t care what everyone’s thinking. Mr. Hart, I know this may be new, but from what I understand, no one has actually seen you together. If you want to prove to Mr. Haynes that he’s just as deserving of love as every other person here, I’d suggest you start showing him that.”
Wilson’s the first professor to use Leo’s real last name—Haynes, not Woods, not some dismissive jab at his Omega father. It’s a small thing, but it means more than Wilson probably knows. “I can do that.” Just the thought of it—walking hand in hand with Leo down the hall, kissing him in the courtyard, letting the world see us—floods me with joy, a wild, reckless kind that makes my heart pound. I grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, already halfway to the door, my steps light with purpose.
Wilson calls out before I disappear, his voice cutting through my rush. “One step at a time, Riley. Mr. Haynes is used to being in the public eye, but not always for good reasons. Help change that perspective.” He throws me a small smile before gathering his things and heading out into the hall, leaving me to drag my phone out and form a message that won’t terrify Leo.
I want to go to dinner and then cuddle.
My heart skips, a silly, romantic flutter, and I bite my lip, staring at the message until his reply pings back seconds later.
I’d love that.
I’m already thinking of the million different things I could make and then tamper it down. Leo doesn’t seem like the person who would enjoy the gourmet restaurants I all but grew up in. He was wildly happy with my first attempt at scrambled eggs and I’m never going to tell him that I paid for someone to come through and clean the kitchen because I don’t know how.
Hopefully, that’s not completely off putting.
Someone clears their throat, my entire body tensing before I look up to see Benjamin standing a few feet away, his face twisted in a scowl that makes my stomach drop. His citrus scent should’ve hit me like a wall, but it didn’t—Leo’s spiced apple clinging to me, coating my skin, my clothes, blocking out everything else.
I shove my phone into my pocket, my giddiness souring into dread as I stand up. Benjamin hasn’t shown up all day, and I’d let myself believe it was too good to be true because it was. “Hi?”
“Don’thime,” he snaps. “I thought the dinner on Friday would’ve made all this bullshit go away. You declining my calls over the weekend and avoiding me yesterday was bad enough, and now I hear you’re what—dating that fucking Omega?” His eyes narrow as he takes a step closer. “Tell me, Riley, what the fuck does he have that I don’t?”
