Page 71 of Hot for Teacher
His anger almost had Chase smiling. “No. But when I picture him with someone long-term, it’s someone … put together. Someone who knows who they are and what they want.” Chase opened his eyes, raising his brows at his friend. “I don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up.”
Spencer waved a hand. “Who the fuck says you have to? You can grow together and shit. That’s what those relationship things are supposed to be for.” He suddenly grinned, his eyes full of mischief. “Plus, I already know what you should be.”
“You do?”
Spencer set his bag of chips down, dusting his hands. He leaned forward, the picture of solemnity. “You should be a therapist,” he said, each word deliberate.
“What?”
Chase honestly couldn’t tell if Spencer was joking. Except for the fact that it was almost always clear when Spencer was joking.
So he was serious.
“You listen,” Spencer told him, frank and open. “Youalwayslisten to me, no matter how much I gripe. And you’re like that with everyone. You have this way—you’re present without being pushy. You put people at ease.”
To some extent, they were words Chase had heard before—he’d been told he was a good listener lots of times, actually, by various people—but something about the blunt compliment made it one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to Chase.
Still … a therapist?
Chase nibbled at his lower lip, considering. “But … I have my own issues. Like, a lot of them.”
“Oh yeah.” Spencer nodded. “You definitely need therapy, Chasey. But everybody does. My school counselor once told me every therapist has a therapist, and that if they don’t, you should find a different therapist. Plus, betas do really well in that field. Not as susceptible to wonky pheromones.”
Chase could only blink at him. It sounded … really fucking tempting, actually. Or at the very least, a direction he could look into. He hadn’t even had that much before now.
Spencer started laughing, punching a hand into the air. “Damn, I amkillingit at advice today! I should be a fucking lifestyle guru or something.” He danced in place for a moment, contorting his torso this way and that while staying seated, and generally looking so ridiculous Chase couldn’t help grinning at him. Then Spencer grimaced. “Can we get off your bathroom floor now? My ass is getting numb.”
“Yeah, man.” Chase stood and held out a hand, pulling Spencer to standing.
It was clear neither of them felt up for video games or a movie or any sort of distraction yet. They ended up on Chase’s bed, both of them on their backs with their hands folded on their stomachs, staring at the ceiling.
After a few minutes, Noah entered the room, took one look at them, and crawled onto the bed with them. He shuffled close to Chase, nuzzling his head on Chase’s shoulder to scent mark him wordlessly.
“No Eli tonight?” Chase asked. He’d thought after his last refusal to go partying, Noah might have decided to stay with his omega.
Noah folded his hands on his stomach, mirroring Chase’s and Spencer’s positions. “Thought it might be better to stay home tonight.”
He and Spencer had both been doing that since Chase had come back from Killian’s, too numb and shell-shocked to sharewith them what had happened. They’d been sticking close and supporting him without prying. Waiting for him to open up. Just like Killian had apparently been waiting.
Chase let out a long breath, letting his body relax and sink into the mattress. In some ways he felt lighter than he had all week—it was weird the release a few truths spoken out loud could provide—but he wasn’t exactly floating on air.
He was surrounded by the scents of spiced tea and ocean air, and they were comforting, but they weren’t leather and cherry. They weren’t the pheromones Chase had come to associate with everything good in the world.
Chase missed his alpha.
The missing hurt, like an ache he couldn’t get rid of. Even when he slept, he felt it—he’d wake up in the middle of the night in pain and unable to figure out why, until he was alert enough to remember what had happened. The way he’d left Killian looking so devastated.
Chase knew it was on him to fix it. He just had to … say things. Admit things. Ask for things.
It should have been easy, but it wasn’t. But that was how it was, and maybe beating himself up about it wasn’t helping anything. Maybe he just needed to admit it was hard and admit he was a little broken and do it anyway.
“What are you thinking?” Spencer asked. “Dreaming about your stalker professor?”
“I’m thinking that it was easier with you guys. Letting you in.”
Noah snorted a laugh. “Yeah, but we also kind of just … latched onto you after orientation. And there wasn’t any pressure for declarations or any of that, so we had time to worm our way in without you noticing. Your professor’s too lovesick for that. Poor guy.”
“How would you know?” Chase asked. “Did you have a chat with him too?”
