Page 84 of Heat Clinic

I shake my head, and we stop at a crosswalk and wait for the signal to turn. While we stand there, I put my hand to the small of her back and she inches just a little bit closer until her coat brushes mine. “I miss some things. The tea. American tea isn’t really tea at all. And iced? I’m not sure why you’d ruin a perfectly good cuppa with ice. Chips with malt vinegar. Popping out with friends to the pub. Taking a train to another country for a quick getaway. But I wouldn’t trade my life to go back there. What about you? Will you miss Boston if you move here?”

She was silent as she thought about it and we waited for the cars to pass. “There are things I’ll miss. Boston is a weird town. I moved there for college. There’s a sort of speakeasy in the basement of an Italian restaurant. And the entrance to the best shopping is hidden behind a vending machine. There’s a lot of museums and art exhibits and festivals. It’s close enough to visit my parents without them expecting me to be over there constantly. But I wouldn’t call it home. I think I stayed because it was easier than thinking of what I really wanted to do.”

This is a difficult subject to bring up, but it’s an important one. One I can sympathize with. “Sam mentioned there was tension with your parents.” I leave the statement open-ended so she can pick it up if it’s something she wants to talk about. I don’t want to push her too fast. None of us do. But I want to get to know her too. It’s a tricky balance. One that I’m not used to. I’ve never really seriously dated anyone other than Marcus before.

When the pedestrian light turns green, I urge her forward until I see our destination just up ahead. The building is plain, yet imposing. Easy to miss. Not something you’d ever look at and wonder about. Square and made of rows upon rows of huge glass window panes, it’s a typical New York City building. Unless you know what’s inside.

Emily tucks a strand of windblown hair behind her ear. “I love them, but… they’re both betas and so is my sister. I’m the only omega in my whole family and they don’t really understand it. They certainly didn’t know how to handle it.

“I was in school when my first heat started. With my cycles, I don’t get a lot of warning time. It was even worse when I was a teenager. I sent half the football team into a rut. It was chaos. The omega center had to come and pull me out and take me home. My mom was mortified. They weren’t ready to deal with it. Didn’t know how to handle that sort of thing. Nobody suspected I was going to present as an omega, not even the doctors. So they locked me in my room.

“It hurt so bad I thought I was dying. You learn about heats and ruts in health class, but it’s not the same as living through it. I didn’t have a phone in my room, so I tried to climb out through my second-story window, but the plastic rose trellis broke and I fell. Broke my ankle and ended up needing surgery. They were just relieved the hospital put me out for my whole heat and didn’t wake me up until it was over.”

I steer us out of the flow of foot traffic and stop, and she follows my lead. “Bloody hell. They sound even worse than my parents and I didn’t know that was possible. My father never quite forgave me for not turning out to be an alpha like him. It’s draining trying to live up to someone’s unrealistic expectations of you. I’m sorry you went through your first heat alone. Your parents sound like a couple of muppets.”

“Muppets?” She looks at me with wide eyes, then bursts into laughter. It’s an honest laugh full of belly breathing and a dainty snort. It’s cute. The wind catches her hair again, and she turns into it so it blows the strands out of her face. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I’m sorry. I was just imagining my parents as muppets.” After a little more giggling, she pulls herself together. “I’m sorry about your shitty parents. You dad sounds like an ass if he thinks you being a beta means you’re not as good as an alpha.”

“He was,” I agree.

The wind blows again and Emily shivers from the cold. “All right. So where are we going? Will you tell me now?”

“We’re here.” I jerk my chin over her head to point, and she turns around to get an eyeful of the nondescript building. “Come on.”

I pull the door open, and she stands as still as a statue in the doorway as she cranes her head back and looks up. “What… How…”

My hand at the small of her back propels her in, and I follow her deeper into the lobby. “It’s the headquarters for a landscaping company.”

She spins in a slow circle. “It’s beautiful. These trees have to be really old to be so tall.”

“Come on.” I take her hand and lead her to the stairs that go down to a small, rectangular pool of water. With our backs to the street on the other side of the wall of glass, it’s easy to pretend you’re in a park in the springtime. “They stay green because of all the glass and the lights. It acts like a greenhouse.”

We sit on the bottom steps. It’s like being in a park. From the outside, you’d never know it’s here. From the inside, you’d never know you were in one of the most densely populated cities in the world. The soft music piped in through hidden speakers adds to the magical feeling of the place.

“This is so much better than I thought my surprise was going to be,” she says, her voice breathy and full of wonder. “It even smells good.” She reaches over and strokes the tip of a fern, then digs her fingers into the soil. “They’re real.”

“Look up.”

She does, and I enjoy the sight of her pale white throat as she tips her head back and looks at the stacked balconies of the tower’s interior. It’s a high-rise building. That’s a lot of floors. And each balcony is trimmed in plants, their vines cascading over the side like a green waterfall of leaves.

“Wow. It’s so beautiful.”

I wish I had my camera. Marcus would love this moment. He’d be jealous he didn’t get to share it. But a small part of me likes that it’s just us right now. I don’t mind sharing. I like to watch. But this moment is mine. “It is. It’s very beautiful.”

Emily looks at me and blushes, her cheeks and the tip of her ears turning pink. Making her blush has quickly become one of my favorite things. She’s so easy to tease. Her eyes soften and her shoulder bumps against me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Pointing, she tells me the names of all the plants she knows. All of them look pretty much the same to me. I’m not a plebian. I can tell the difference between a rose bush and a dahlia. But her knowledge about plants is extensive. It’s clearly one of her passions.

“That’s a Prince of Orange Philodendron. I’m surprised they have it planted here. It’s fairly rare. See how some of the leaves are yellowish or even peach? That’s where it gets its name from.”

“It’s pretty. Is it your favorite?”

She shrugs, but smiles. “Sure. I have a lot of favorites, though. It’s hard to pick just one.”

“Do you miss your plants? I saw your collection. It’s massive.”

Emily nods and leans more against me. “I do, but the house sitter sends me photos every few days. She’s doing a good job, so I’m not too worried about them.”

---