Page 25 of Heat Clinic

“Ifshe calls.”

She might not. And somehow… I’ll need to learn how to live with that. The alpha inside of me wants to storm that building and rip her out of it, to make sure she’s safe and keep any other alphas from her. But the man in me knows that’s only going to end up with handcuffs and fingerprint ink and the firm might get annoyed if their name gets splashed in the papers by association.

“I’ll see you soon. We’ll deal with it no matter what happens. Love you,” Tom says.

“Love you too. No matter what.”

The line goes silent, and I put my phone down on the table, my foot bouncing with restless energy. I need to punch something. Go for a jog. Maybe jerk off in the bathroom? I don’t even know anymore.

I’m realizing that perhaps I was impulsive when I cleared my schedule and pissed off all my clients.

My waitress comes back and drops off my food. She says nothing about the broken coffee mug as she goes to the jingling door to greet the customers who just walked in. She grabs a handful of laminated menus from a cubby and seats them on the other side of the diner. Far away from me.

Fuuuck.

That beta was right. I’m acting like a beast and scaring everyone. Alphas are tolerated in this modern society because we’re good at making quick decisions in the heat of the moment and most of us have a natural leadership quality. Unhinged alphas who scare the public are dealt with swiftly and decisively.

I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and grab a fifty, then glance at the broken coffee mug and take out a second one and tuck the cash under my untouched plate of food. Outside on the street, I take a moment to just breathe and clear my head, and then I walk back to my car.

The clinic is busy now that the sun’s up, and my car is no longer one of the few in the parking lot. I unlock it and slide inside and grip the leather wrapped steering wheel until it creaks. I should go back to the hotel and shower. Change my clothes. Maybe try to take a nap until Tom gets here. If the clinic still hasn’t called, then I can drive to the airport and pick him up instead of sending a car. I’ll bring him flowers. Sunflowers. His favorite. I smile and press the ignition button and watch the dash light up.

With the address to the hotel keyed into the navigation software, I lean back and hook my fingers on the wheel as it makes the drive.

The call comes in five intersections later as I stop for a red light. It’s unlisted. My heart leaps as I swipe the green dot to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Orello?”

“Speaking.”

“Hi! This is Mary, I’m the administrative assistant for the clinic on Main Street. I’d like to talk to you about your paperwork. Is this a good time?”

The light turns green, and my car drives through it once traffic moves. “Now is fine. Is there an issue? Did I forget to fill out a section?”

“No, nothing like that,” she says. “The omega you requested permission to court has accepted your request. We need you to come and fill out more forms and give a sample.”

My heart nearly beats right out of my chest, and it’s a good thing my car drives itself because my whole body lurches to the side as I reach for the controls and turn up the volume.

“Thank you,” I say. “I can be there in five minutes.”

“Oh, there’s no need to rush. I’m here in the office until six tonight.”

“I’ll be there in five.” I end the call and cancel my current route, sending my car back to the clinic as I count down each stoplight I’m forced to idle through until I pull into the now-familiar parking lot I just left. My spot is taken by an ancient Honda Civic and I have to park in the back.

The gravel crunches under my loafers as my long legs eat up the distance to the alpha entrance on the building’s side. A few alphas sit there on their phones while others watch the game up on the TV mounted to the wall. The receptionist looks up from her computer behind the glass partition that separates her from the waiting room.

“Hi, I’m Marcus Orello. I just got a call from the admin assistant. She asked me to come by and fill out some more paperwork?”

“She’s expecting you. I’ll walk you back to her office.” She presses a button on the wall, and the door buzzes as it unlatches.

She opens it and ushers me in, and I follow as she leads me to Mary’s office. Mary is sitting behind her desk, eating a sandwich, and she looks up just as she takes a bite.

“Here’s your alpha,” the receptionist says, then walks away.

Mary hurries to chew and swallow as she motions for me to stop hovering in the doorway and sit. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. Have a seat.” She tucks her sandwich into its paper wrapper and sets it down.

I sit, the plastic chair creaking ominously as I try and fold myself into it. My knees hit her desk. “I’m sorry for disturbing your lunch.” This is a bad way to make a good impression on the clinic. If I’d known, I’d have waited in the parking lot. What’s thirty more minutes if it gets me closer to my omega? We’ve already waited a lifetime.

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