Page 13 of His Pretty Omega
I had completely forgotten it was Valentine’s today, probably because I never had a Valentine. Didn’t mean I didn’t wish every year for an alpha to show up with roses and chocolates.
Staring down at the test in my hand, I wrinkled my nose. This was not anything I had ever wished for on Cupid’s holiday.
“Can you come over?” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I did something.”
“Are you okay?” he repeated, sounding a little more awake and slightly concerned.
“Nope, not okay. So, so not okay.” My voice rose an octave with each word, and I could hear the hysteria I was trying to hold off.
“Are you hurt or in jail?” Rustling sounded, and I could picture him sitting up in bed. I felt bad about waking him up, knowing Brodie got up every couple of hours for a feeding. But desperate times called for all hands on deck. And there had never been a more desperate time in my life.
“I’m not hurt and I’m not in jail,” I assured him, then swiped at a tear that slid down my cheek. Crying was so not me! This had to be stupid pregnancy hormones. Bennett had cried all the time when he’d been pregnant. Of course, he and his alpha needed to be apart for the beginning of his pregnancy, for reasons. It was a whole thing, involving a not-so-nice ex, and I was glad they could finally be together.
“Am I bringing coffee, wine, or chocolate?” I loved that Bennett was always so calm, while I was usually the exact opposite and brought the drama. He was the ying to my yang. The nice to my bratty side. The only time he had even hinted at losing it had been when he was in labor last month.
Snorting, I reminded him, “It’s like seven in the morning.”
“And I have two small children, what’s your point? I barely know what time of day it is anymore. I can’t even guarantee the last time I showered. Honestly, though, if you start clutching your pearls about day drinking, I’m sending the police. Obviously, you’re being held against your will and that is your cry for help.”
Because just hearing his voice somehow made me think everything was going to be okay, I laughed, but then it turned into sort of a laugh-hiccup-sob. “Maybe a hot chocolate.”
“You don’t want a large coffee?” Through the phone I heard the sounds of him getting ready to leave. The jangle of his keys. Softly telling Shay, his mate, that there was a situation, and I needed him. That made me smile remembering me fiercely telling Shay that Bennett and I were a package deal. Shay and I hadn’t gotten off on the best foot–mostly my fault, not that I would ever admit to that–but we were both slowly growing on the other.
“Seth?” Bennett’s concerned voice made me think he’d called my name more than once. “You’re starting to really scare me.”
“I’m pregnant.” Somehow whispering the words out loud made it realer than the pee stick I was still clutching tightly in my fist.
Silence met my admission, before Bennett calmly declared, “Wine and chocolate, it is.”
Hysterical laughter escaped me, along with some smidge of relief. “Did you hear what I said?”
“The wine is for me. I’ll pump and dump. It’s fine. I have plenty of milk in the fridge for Brodie. The chocolate’s for you,” he said with purpose. “Oh, who am I kidding, I’m having the chocolate too. Fuck this baby weight. I’m on my way.”
Twenty minutes later, Bennett was sliding down next to me on my bathroom floor, because I hadn’t moved one inch since our call had ended. Just stared blankly at the test I was holding, like the big PREGNANT showing in thelittle window was going to magically disappear if I wished hard enough.
Bennett pried the test from my fingers and wrapped them around a warm cup of fragrant chocolaty goodness. The logo from our favorite bakery/coffee shop, The Sweet Spot, had me sniffing it appreciatively. No one made better hot chocolate than Quinn Sinclair, the owner and our personal friend.
Glancing at the test, Bennett tossed it in the trash with a loud thunk. “Drink that. You’re pale as a fucking ghost.”
Taking a small sip, I hummed happily when the chocolate hit my tongue. Hopefully it would stay down, because everything was hit or miss lately.
“So,” Bennett wrapped his arms around his drawn-up knees, and rested his tired face against them, “not the flu then.”
Shaking my head, I blinked rapidly at the prickly heat blooming behind my eyes.
Reaching over, he gave me an awkward side hug, squeezing gently. “It’s going to be okay, Sethy.”
Sitting the cup down next to me, I side-eyed him. “I don’t want kids. Babies are just–” I shuddered. “I mean, your kids are okay, obvs. But other kids are just a hard pass. You know how I feel about the ones I have to keep.”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly.
Holding up a hand, I muttered, “And I know what you are going to say. Seth, you’re a pediatric nurse, how canyou not like kids? I like them fine. Because I can give them back to their parents. But having one of my own? OMG, Benny, I’m barely responsible for myself! I can’t even keep a houseplant alive. How the fuck am I going to keep an entire human alive!” The hysteria was back in my voice, rising higher with each word.
Bennett ripped the wrapper off aTwixbar and handed me half of it. My stomach gave a negative heave, and I shook my head. “I think the hot chocolate might be my sugar limit.”
Bennett winced sympathetically, then munched on the candy bar, closing his eyes in bliss. “Oh, that’s good.”
“No wine?” Because I didn’t see a bottle anywhere, and he had a cup from The Sweet Spot of his own.
