Page 34 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
“Uh, no.” Ambrose runs his hand across his face. “She wants me to work the heat because I’m the only person the omega might accept in her nest mid-heat. You can’t add someone in the middle of a heat that an omega doesn’t have a prior connection with. And she…” He swallows hard, the pained look returning to his face. “She mentioned being attracted to me before things got going, and now she’s requesting me.”
“Why would she…” I trail off as understanding sets in. “The omega is your scent match.”
“I won’t go. I can’t. It’s unprofessional. It’s…” Panic radiates from him through the bond. There’s a vulnerable, desperate look on his face I’ve never seen before. “What if I get too attached? What if she doesn’t want to see me after? What if?—”
I wrap my arms around him and my alpha begs me to keep him trapped in my arms so he can’t go anywhere. But I don’t listen. I can’t be that selfish. My worries don’t matter when the man I love is in such clear turmoil.
“You should go. Jackson needs you. The omega needs you. We’ll figure out the rest when the heat is over. No matter what happens, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
The words taste bitter in my mouth, though I know they’re the right thing to say as tension bleeds from him and he releases a shuddering sigh.
Ambrose will torture himself worrying about the omega if he refuses to help. He’s always there for me, ready to support me and put my needs above his. Now it’s my turn to do the same for him.
I can only pray it isn’t a colossal mistake.
12
I can’t believethis is happening.
My heart races as I head inside the heat clinic, and I’m glad I’m wearing a dark t-shirt so my profuse sweating won’t be as noticeable. Coming to this place I’ve worked at for years, but not dressed in my normal work attire, adds to the surrealness of what’s happening.
A little over twenty-four hours ago, I met my scent-matched omega.
Now, I’m heading back to the clinic to help with her heat.
These sorts of things don’t happen in real life.
Yet here I am, vibrating with nervous anticipation as I drop some things off in my office, then head to meet Daisy in the heat services wing.
Sven raises a thick blonde brow as I pass him in the corridor. “Dr. Stills, what are you doing here? Are you covering for Dr. Janet again?”
I shake my head, and can barely get my mouth to work well enough to mutter something about bringing Jackson a thing he left at home. Sven nods and continues past me, not one tointerrogate me on my weird behavior, but my stomach does a nauseating flip as I realize there’s no way to hide what I’m doing here.
Gossip spreads like wildfire in this place, even if we’re supposed to have a strict confidentiality policy. Sven won’t talk, but as soon as someone else sees my car in the parking lot and notices I’m not working a regular shift in the medical wing, they’ll put the pieces together.
What am I thinking?
Technically, I’m not doing anything wrong. Daisy checked with HR and assured me there’s no policy preventing medical staff from also working in heat services. There’s usually a more robust health screening and training for new heat minders, but because of the extenuating circumstances—and my ability to provide a recent negative STI test—they’re waiving all that.
I won’t get into any legal trouble for what I’m about to do.
Still, it’s common sense that a doctor shouldn’t moonlight as a heat minder. It muddies the ethical boundaries of the doctor-patient relationship. There’ve been a few times a nurse or med tech assisted with a heat when an omega had medical conditions that needed to be monitored, but never the omega’s doctor. It’s just not done.
It feels like everyone is staring at me as I make my way to Daisy’s office, and I pray they can’t see how shaky my smile is as I greet them with feigned calm. By the time I reach her office, I’m a mess.
The door swings open before I can knock, startling me backward, and I almost crash into a nurse walking past.
“Whoa there,” Daisy exclaims, moving to my side to steady me with an impressive amount of speed for someone of her short stature. “Are you going to pass out on me, Dr. Stills?” Her brows knit together as she takes in my shaken expression.
Do I really look that awful? I try my best to smile andstraighten back up. “N-no, I’m fine. Or as fine as I can be.” My accompanying laugh sounds hollow.
“Let’s go into my office and get you a juice box, just in case.” Daisy pats my arm, clearly not believing that I won’t faint at any moment.
I shake my head and suck in a stabilizing breath. “I’m fine. Really. I don’t want to make them wait any longer than necessary. I know it took me a while to get here.”
Guilt at making an omega in need wait for my help, along with leaving Jackson to continue fending for himself, makes my stomach sink.
River and I argued for over an hour about what I should do. I’m still not sure this is the right decision, but he was adamant about me doing this.
