Page 8 of Omega's Forbidden Heat
“She was friends with your mum. She was here a lot in the last few…”
He feels a lump rise in his throat involuntarily and he winces. His aunt sees it and he recognises the pain reflected in her own face. Her gaze glazes over and he can tell she’s lost momentarily in her thoughts, her memories.
Amy friends with his mum? She never mentioned her. He can’t believe it’s true. He can’t see how they would know each other.
“I…” his aunt mumbles. “I’ll make us some lunch. Have you got anything to eat in the house, Jack?”
“Yeah, stuff to make sandwiches.”
She wanders out of the room, but he still feels Finn’s hot critique on his face. He turns to him “What?” he asks him.
“Nothing.” Finn says with raised eyebrows.
“I am just doing what you told me to do,” Jack tells him.
“Good.” Finn holds his gaze before turning his back to continue wrapping an ornament in newspaper.
Jack closes his eyes. This really is the last thing he needs, more complications on top of complications.
Chapter Four
He feels like he’s running a fever. Like he is somehow sick. Because there is something wrong with him, very wrong. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the Omega out of his head. He tries to distract himself with sorting out bits and pieces in the house, with making his way through his mum’s paperwork, with running across the countryside until his muscles burn, with putting his body through a workout of burpees and pushups and sit-ups in the back garden. He fills the next fourteen days as best he can, but it is hopeless, futile.
There are hints of her peachy scent lingering in the house no matter how hard he scrubs and cleans, and notes of it in the air whenever he ventures outside. He stays away from her, avoiding any situation that might throw her in his path, avoiding the pub, and the village shop and making excuses every time Finn invites him around. But he’s beginning to think it’s a waste of time because the Omega won’t get the fuck out of his head.
He tells himself it’s just because he hasn’t had an Omega in so long, and now the temptation of one so close by is unbearable. He tells himself it will wear off. He watches porn, messages girls on the internet — tries to replace the girl in his head with another. But it’s still a waste of time. Every naked girl has him wandering about her, picturing what she’d look like beneath those clothes. Every flirtatious text has him imagining she’s whispering those words in his ear.
It’s new. Every girl he’s wanted in the past, he’s had. And the forbidden nature of this one, so especially sweet, so especially delicious, feels intentionally cruel.
Finn has noticed his coldness, although Jack thinks he has no clue to its cause. The texts become more frequent until he stops round the house after work on Friday afternoon and they crack open cans of lager.
“What are you doing tonight, Jack?” Finn asks him, running his thumb over the top of his lager can, swiping away the fine layer of condensation.
Taking a swig of his beer, he shrugs his shoulders. “Same thing I do every night,” he says, “nothing.”
“How about watching a movie? I’ve got to work tomorrow — got an early start — so I’m not up for doing anything radical but we haven’t watched Top Gun in ages. Remember, we were obsessed with that movie and we’d watch it every weekend.” He chuckles.
Jack grins. “It is a good movie,” he says, “I could do with getting out of this house, though.”
“Come to mine,” Finn says, then adds hurriedly, “Amy won’t be there. She’s working tonight and then she’ll probably head into Guildford to meet her uni friends.”
“Uni friends?” he asks, trying his best to sound nonchalant and not a bit interested when he’s more curious than he’d care to admit.
“Yeah, she’s studying social care there.”
“Why is she still in Losworth, then?”
“Money,” Finn says. He takes a long drink and Jack suspects it’s to change the subject. “How about it then? Top Gun viewing?”
It would be good to have some company. It’s been lonely hanging out in this house. He rolls his neck, hearing the vertebrae crack one by one, releasing the tension in his shoulders. It probably isn’t a good idea to go to the Omega’s house. She won’t be there though, so what’s the harm.
The wind frisks his hair and skates across his skin, as he lowers his head and hurries down the lane. Something inside him sloshes in the pit of his stomach and has him lowering his head, as if he doesn’t want people in the village to know where he’s going or what he’s doing.
There’s nothing wrong with it. Nothing wrong with spending the evening at his best friend’s house. Yet, something stings in his stomach. Guilt. His intentions are innocent, aren’t they?
The hedges that circle the yard to the old farmhouse are taller than they once were, towering above his head, hiding the glow of the house until he rounds the bend and his feet crunch against the tightly packed stones of the gravel. The great wooden beams that sweep across the frame of the house sag more than they used to, but the old place always had a worn-out look about it, one that gave it character.
He remembers Finn’s dad once told them that, when they ripped out the ancient kitchen and installed the new one, they found love letters hidden behind loose bricks. He hadn’t been surprised. The house seems like one that has a past, that has secrets.
