Page 10 of Thorns That Bloom
Before I can even unlock the tablet to show him, he rolls his eyes and sighs.
“What is it now? Come, follow me,” he grumbles, nearly pulling it out of my hand. I glance into the small office one more time, the apology still on my tongue, but I swallow it and leave with the man instead.
Why do I feel so disappointed?
I rub the back of my neck, looking over his shoulder as we pass through the hall toward the office department. “You’re, errr…Theo, right?” he mutters as we go.
“Yeah.”
“Madison’s sending the pretty young boys up here now, thinking that might smooth things up, huh? She knows I’m married,” he says with a bitter chuckle. I hang my head and catch up so that I walk next to him instead of behind.
“I offered. She seemed to have a lot on her plate.”
He gives me an incredulous side-eye. “Mhm…” The more I look at him, the more familiar he seems. The balding head, sharp jawline, and strangely vivid tie. I think I’ve seen him back on the floor a few times, bickering with Madison, and in some of those boring HR meetings. He notices my stare and smirks. “Kyle.”
“Right!” I blurt out with a grin. “Right. Sorry.”
“Anyway, I guess this one was our fault,” he notes in a low tone as he scrolls down the report on the tablet. We’re already turning to his cubicle, where he throws himself into his leather office chair and rests back. “Give me a minute to fix this.”
Nodding, I awkwardly lean against the wall and rest my hands together. “Yeah, take your time.” I glance around, seeing pinned photos of him and a man who looks a little too much like his sibling, but who I assume is his husband, as well as two cats. It takes only a few moments of stillness until I can’t help myself and open my mouth again. “I wasn’t sure who to go to, so I just wandered into that office. I think I’ve upset, umm…?” Trailing off in a questioning tone, I hope Kyle catches on.
“Sam, you mean? Oh, no. It’s-it’s fine, I think,” he says with a glance toward me before looking to the computer screen again.
Sam. Part of me purrs with joy over the knowledge of his name. Another, the rational one, shakes its head in disapproval.
“He’s quite reserved, he is. Doesn’t leave that room much unless someone drags him out for lunch,” Kyle keeps talking, almost absent-mindedly, while editing terrifyingly complex-looking files and adding long notes under a few sections at a maddening speed. His fingers glide across the keyboard as if it’s made of butter. “Good worker, though. From what I can tell, anyway. Has only been here for like two…three weeks?”
“Aha.”
“Maybe it’s some medical thing? Some weird side effects of an omega pregnancy and all that? Don’t really know much about all that, if you get me.” After a pause, Kyle turns to me with a raised brow, like he only just realized or remembered I’m an alpha. He makes an awkward smirk and clicks a few more things quickly before returning the tablet to me. “Who knows? Just heard they made a point to act with care around him, and it wasn’t us betas who got that special talk,” he says, shrugging.
I accept the tablet, nodding with a thankful smile.
I don’t know much about omega pregnancy, either. Never thought about it.
“Give Madison my deepest, sincerest apologies for the mistake,” he adds with a heavy dose of sarcasm, making me snort.
“I sure will.”
Kyle leans back in his chair, resting his hands over his stomach, and I walk back the way we came.
Once again, I feel like I’m in some sort of haze as I pass through the hall, replaying the few blurry images ofSamcarved into my mind from before—his cautious gaze peering from behind the monitor like a rabbit frozen among the strands of tall grass.
I return downstairs and return the tablet to Madison, hardly even keeping the focus to joke and converse with her about Kyle and his slight dig. I excuse myself, testing the limits of my time away from work as I slip into one of the less-used toilets, where I hum an unsteady melody of a may-be-song into my phone.
Resting the back of my head against the tiled wall, I stare at the ceiling with the spiderweb in the corner of it. When we started dating, Emily told me, with this infatuation in her wide, bright eyes, how beautiful she found it that I had made a song about her. She said it was the most romantic thing in the world that her presence made art blossom inside of me.
But that hasn’t happened in a while. There hasn’t been much magic happening inside of me, much inspiration blossoming in this way in my life recently. Looking at her hasn’t made me feel anything in months. The songs I playwhen I perform have been stale at best. And I miss making new music.
I let out a controlled exhale, realizing how stupid this entire situation is.
All I know is his name. All I’ve got is his scent. Comforting and alluring in a strangely,deeplyintimate way, but that isn’t enough. That isn’t logical. I’m being completely unreasonable.
Still, it brings one thing into focus.
What I’m feeling, no matter how illogical, finally gives me the courage to act. Opening the message window I’ve been dreading since earlier, I take a deep breath.
Can’t keep going like this, Ems
