Page 19 of Forbidden Taste
Unfortunately, Riley is restless, his fingers clawing at my chest, softly at first, tracing lazy patterns through my shirt, then harder, more insistent. His body trembles every so often, little shivers that ripple through him, and I frown, shifting to hover on his side. My hands brace on either side of him, my shadow falling over his flushed face as I look down. “What’s wrong?”
He sighs, a shaky breath falling from his lips as he meets my gaze. “My heat’s coming soon,” he offers, his voice softer than usual, tinged with frustration. “The days leading up to the first spike arealways weird—like I’m crawling out of my skin.” His fingers flex against my chest, digging in just a little.
“Anything I can do?” I ask, my hand sliding to cup his cheek. I’d do anything to ease this for him, to take that edge off his voice.
He leans into my touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Just be here with me,” he murmurs.
The silence brings in the soft hum of music from a small speaker in the corner, something I hadn’t noticed before, Riley’s frustration drowning it out as he shifts beneath me again. His discomfort pains me but other than just holding him, there’s absolutely nothing I can do. I can’t even truly sympathize because I haven’t experienced a heat but it’s unsettling to see Riley so…
When he lets out another little groan, I tighten my arms around him, running my nose along the side of his face. He relaxes but only just slightly, the need to give him more welling up in my chest until it’s all instinct, a soft melody slipping through my lips. He calms immediately, his lips parting as he presses them against my shoulder. “Oh, that’s beautiful. Keep doing that.”
“It’s just a hum,” I counter, not sure why it helps.
“It’s not. It’s…” his nose scrunches up as a whine slips through. “It’s like a purr but softer. I didn’t notice it before. Keep doing it. Please.”
I oblige, watching his body fully relax against me as if I truly have the power to give him the comfort he so desperately needs. So, I deepen the melody, letting it flow through the nest and between us, a snore permeating the space a few moments later. Still, I keep up the song, something instinctual, without words or a direction, watching as a smile spreads across Riley’s lips, his scent softening.
The moment is disrupted as my phone vibrating in my pocket steals my attention. No one ever calls me this late, not even myparents. I fall onto my back and slide it out, my stomach dropping when I see the name on the screen—Dean Carter.It’s nearly 7 p.m., too late for a casual call, and in a school like this, where every moment’s an opportunity, I can’t ignore it.
Riley shimmies closer, throwing an arm over my stomach, mumbling something about ‘put that away’. God, he’s adorable. I lean down to press a kiss to his damp forehead before moving from the nest and stepping out into the hallway to answer.
“Mr. Haynes,” the Dean’s voice crackles through. “I apologize for calling so late, but this is very important and it’s not usually something I’d do over the phone. Are you able to come into the office?”
I blink, my grip tightening on the phone. “Right now?” I ask, glancing back toward the nest where Riley’s curled up. The idea of leaving him twists something inside of me but without telling everyone we’re together, I don’t have a good excuse to not go.
“Yes, Mr. Hayes. It’s time-sensitive.”
I hesitate but I can’t pass this up, not when it could be about my scholarship, my future here, or any one of a hundred things. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” I’m about to turn back to explain, but Riley’s already there, standing in the doorway, all doe-eyed and gorgeous, his skin flushed, his boxers riding low on his hips. He looks like a dream, one that I’ll have to indulge in later.
“It’s okay,” he muses as he steps closer. “I’ll be right here when you get back.” He places a gentle hand to my chest and I can’t help but lean down and kiss the life out of him. He tastes like garlic and honey, like home, and I pour everything into it—my worry, my need, my promise to come back as if I’m not just going to the main hall. His fingers curl into my shirt, a soft whimper escaping him, my resolve to leave slowly dying.
“I won’t be long,” I murmur before forcing myself away from him and out the door. It only takes a few moments to weave through the courtyard, the Dean’s office just inside the main building, nestling in the administrative corner. I’ve been here a handful of times, mostly for paperwork reasons or when classes I needed didn’t line up with my current schedule.
But not one of those meetings were ever this late.
My hand hovers over the door but it swings open before I can knock, a secretary ushering me in with a tight nod. I step inside and swallow nervously—Professor Jameson’s there, alongside a few of my own professors, their faces a mix of stern and unease. Dean Carter stands at the head of a long conference table, her gray hair pulled back, her expression unreadable as she gestures for me to sit.
The wall of judgement grows as I take a seat across from them, knowing full well that whatever they have to say isn’t going to be good.
“We’ve been reviewing some reports coming in of late,” the Dean starts, “and were quite surprised to find how many involved you, Mr. Hayes. You’re an excellent student, one who tends to stay out of the limelight, but in the last week, that hasn’t been the case.” She folds her hands on the table, her eyes steady on mine. I’m starting to understand why I’m here—the photo Benjamin snapped, the rumors, the snarls—and now I’m just wondering if I’m about to be kicked out or slapped with probation.
The Dean continues. “We have a no-tolerance policy for violence on campus and there’s very little wiggle room when it comes to unwanted advances.” She pauses, letting the words sink in, and I frown, confusion cutting through the dread.
“What unwanted advances?” I ask, my hands clenching on my knees beneath the table. The room shifts, everyone lookinguncomfortable, eyes darting between them as they avoid my gaze and then the Dean clears her throat, drawing our attention back to her.
“Everyone in this room has brought me reports over the last week, that you’ve been acting out—snarling at a teacher, for instance. But Professor Jameson brought me two instances of you forcing yourself on Mr. Hart, and that, Mr. Hayes, is unacceptable.”
I feel like I can’t breathe, the air sucked out of the room as my eyes snap to Jameson. “That’s not what happened,” I force out. “I never forced myself on anyone.” My heart pounds, a sick, twisting pain spreading through me at the thought—Riley,myRiley, and someone thinking I’d hurt him? It’s unbearable.
Jameson tilts her head, a small laugh coming from her. “And I’m supposed to believe that Mr. Hart, the golden Omega of this academy, chose to be withyou? He already has an Alpha, an end-of-year assignment he cannot fail, and then you stumble in. He’s missed classes, messed up easy scores, and he’s been genuinely off-beat.”
“Just ask Riley,” I plead, desperate as I fumble for my phone in my pocket. “I can call him. I…” My hand shakes, the screen blurring in my vision, but the Dean shakes her head, cutting me off.
“We wanted to speak with you to let you know that you’ll be on probation if this behavior doesn’t improve. I know being an Omega in a high-stress major is difficult, but that’s not an excuse. Should we receive another report, we’ll reassess your enrollment here.”
“I didn’t do anything to Riley,” I whisper. “I promise.” I look around the table, at the faces staring back and it’s like I’m drowning, these accusations twisting around me, threatening to snuff out any happiness I was clinging to.
The Dean’s expression softens, just a fraction, but her voice stays firm. “I wanted to give you the courtesy of delivering this information in person. No disciplinary actions will be taken at thistime since we’ve never had any reports regarding your behavior before. However, should that change, you will be standing in front of a committee.” Dean Carter nods to the door, signaling that this meeting is over, that hardened expression still on her face as if she didn’t just crush my spirit.
