Page 79 of Single Omega Dad
Was it? I was proud if Mathias would have me, but we still had to get through this evening. Together.
Kris and Trigg left and then it was just Mathias and me.
I sat with him for over an hour while the bartender plied us with coffee. Mathias still wasn’t talking, so I took up the slack and spoke softly about the kids, their recent antics, and how they kept me on my toes.
“I missed you,” I said softly, more than once. Possibly more than three times. I said it so he would know. No matter what. If he walked away or if he stayed. I said it so he would know.
“I want to come home with you but I don’t want the boys to see me this way.”
“Well,” I said, “you seem pretty sober right now.” I indicated the line of empty coffee cups on the edge of the table.
He shifted on the bench, his hands going to his pockets and pulling out his key lock. “Will you drive?”
“Of course.”
When we arrived at my house it was past dinnertime, but I knew the kids would still be up. I pulled into the driveway, shutting off the engine. Neither of us got out right away.
I sat very still, imagining I could hear my heartbeat echoing off the car windows. I’d never wanted someone so much and been so afraid at the same time. I feared if I made one wrong move I could lose Mathias forever.
His voice came sharp and sudden. “I want to claim you.”
For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. I swiveled toward him, mouth open.
He turned and his brown eyes met mine, glistening with an emotion somewhere between love and desperation. “But I can’t. I can’t bond.”
“What? Yes! Of course you can. I want it. I want it more than anything.”
“No. I can’t. You don’t understand.”
I reached out to him. He flinched but allowed my touch, my hand settling on the front of his shoulder. “You can. We already have a bond forming. Can’t you feel it? You can claim me, Mathias. I consent.”
He gave me a pained little smile. “I do feel it. But I’m not sure it can go any further.”
“Why, Mathias? Why not?”
His eyes closed.
My hand on his shoulder gripped hard. “Tell me.”
He let out a few short breaths from his nose. Almost a whimper.
I leaned my head into him, sliding my hand from shoulder to chest, resting my forehead against the side of his face. “Tell me,” I repeated.
“To fully form and consummate our bond, I would have to knot you.”
“Uh, all right, then.”
“No. You don’t understand. I can’t. I can’t knot.”
I swallowed hard, my mind spinning, trying to put together all the pieces of these last weeks, his behavior sometimes in bed, his silver cock-ring, his abrupt disappearance after he’d told me he wasn’t whole. “Y—you can’t. Uh, okay.”
“And if you won’t have me, I’ll understand.”
“What? Why wouldn’t I have you?” He smelled of coffee, vodka, and strangely, the faint Alpha Burn of campfires. But he couldn’t be approaching his Burn. He told me it was over a month away.
Then I remembered him saying he was taking hormones and they might disrupt his cycle.
“Is that why you’re taking hormones?” I asked.
