Page 127 of Citius

Joaquin raised a brow at me.

I subtly shook my head. He didn’t need to wade into my workplace dynamics drama. Omegas had extra legal protection, but betas didn’t. It would only hurt Alijah in the end.

“Why doesn’t Kelsey have a proper store?” Alijah asked. “Seems like a waste.”

“We’ve tried telling her that. Doesn’t think she can handle the overhead yet.”

“Who’s we?” Joaquin asked, stabbing at his Szechuan beef.

“The whole family—me, my parents, Jacobi. You think I haven’t tried investing in Beaufeather’s before?”

“You guys sure do like to mention Jacobi a lot,” Joaquin said with his mouth half-full. He swallowed, reached for one of the soda cans, and popped it open. “Have you two ever…?”

“Have we ever hooked up?” I crossed my arms on the table, meeting his gaze with unflinching confidence. Play stupid games with an omega, win filthy prizes. “Of course.”

Joaquin took on a green tinge, trying to force out a laugh for bravado’s sake. Alijah spluttered into his hand.

“We fooled around all the time in high school. What do you think happens when your only potential partners are a bunch of other teenage omega gymnasts who are just as horny as you are? We were too busy and isolated to meet anyone else.”

Sex ed for omegas was less about relationships and more about survival. How to successfully scratch the itch before your hormones overruled everything else, GPA be damned. Jacobi would never have passed math without my steady supply of hand jobs.

We never went all the way, but it was easier to rely on my best friend for a quick climax than risk someone else getting the wrong idea about the situation—or worse, feeling entitled to my body. It was an even bigger risk for Jacobi, given his pansexuality.

Alijah took the open drink from Joaquin’s hand and downed most of it. “And are—are you still…?”

“Of course not. College has a way of broadening one’s horizons. Besides, I’m not even Jacobi’s type.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Joaquin gave my features—and figure—a long look of blatant appreciation. Alijah nodded in agreement.

I shook my head. “He’s got a thing for alphasandprefers taller partners.”

“Guess that rules Wyatt out,” Joaquin said with a playful sneer I didn’t appreciate. Even if he was still nursing a grudge about Wyatt keeping our neighborly status a secret, it didn’t warrant poking fun at his height.

I glared at Joaquin. “You do realize he’s tall for a male gymnast, don’t you?”

He eased forward, mirroring my posture, trying to get a rise out of me. “Do you defend all the men who dump you?”

“Can’t get dumped,” I said, stabbing a chunk of cauliflower, “if you never dated.”

Alijah’s face scrunched up. “Didn’t he break things off a-after—”

“Oh, Morgan, there you are.” Reyhan appeared in the breakroom doorway, looking like an electrocuted sparrow, hair sticking out at odd angles, his expression one of exasperated urgency. “Need a second opinion.”

“Be right there.” I snapped the lid onto my salad container and leaned across the table, my voice quiet but firm. “Just to be clear, it wasn’t his fault.”

“Nah.” Joaquin waved his chopsticks. “Something went down.”

They both looked at me expectantly. I could only disappoint themwith the truth.

“Would you believe me if I told you I can’t remember?”

***

“He’s wrong.” Tyler slumped on the exam room table, his face pinched, red hair scraped back into a greasy bun. He was dressed in rumpled workout clothes, clutching his left hand. His almost healed finger was now swollen and mottled with dark bruises. “It’s not broken.”

The x-ray said otherwise. I leaned closer to the lightbox, scanning the image for bone fragments. “What were you doing when this happened?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just tape me up so I can go to class.”

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