Page 99 of Thorns That Bloom
“Of course I was. It was informative and interesting. But it wasn’t super focused on male omegas,” he remarks, doing that thing he does with his lips when deep in thought, puckering them slightly to the side.
“I know. There weren’t really many options for that when I looked. The hospital is pretty experienced with male omega births, though, so I don’t worry about that.”
“You shouldn’t. You’ll be okay. Rachel said that male omegas with wider hips don’t struggle as much at birth.”
Flashing him a playfully offended scowl, I snort. “You’re saying I have big hips?”
Theo smiles back. There’s still that adorable sense of insecurity behind his eyes, like after we had that moment, or when everyone glared at him. “You have perfect hips. For childbearing, I mean,” he says, facing away quickly.
I get this feeling that I’m not the only one still experiencing that desire from earlier twisting and prodding inside. Theo will do what he can to hide it and push it away, I know he will, but this time…I’m not sure I want him to.
“That’s it,” he says, realizing we’re already at the destination. The house Theo rents his room in is one of the four in a tight row. A typical townhouse with a few stone steps, an ornate front door, and a small balcony on the first floor. The area seems nice enough. Not too busy, but still well kept and close to the center on foot.
I park, and before I manage to get out, Theo’s somehow outside my door, giving me his hand to help me out. I let him, because getting in and out of the car stopped being fun a few weeks ago.
“You walk to work all the way fromhere?” I ask, somewhere between horrified and impressed.
Theo goes up in front of me to unlock the door. “I’m a fast walker, and I enjoy it, so it’s not that bad. It clears my head. Helps me prepare for the day.”
“I’m spoiled by having a car, I think. I’ve always had one ever since I was eighteen.” The more I say, the more I realize that Theo doesn’t really know that much about me. And I want him to know more. Every embarrassing aspect of my past. Every nonsensical little detail. And I want to know all those things about him, too.
He holds the door open for me, theatrically showing me in. The inside is airy and surprisingly clean, considering there are three people living here. When I used to live with roommates in my early twenties, it was always a chaotic, stressful mess. Clearly, at least someone in this house is responsible.
“I never felt it necessary to get a license or to have a car living here. Yeah, it’s definitely handy, but I can always get where I want on foot or by bus. Or train. I like train rides. They’re relaxing. Now that we’re having— I mean, with the baby, it could be helpful to get a car, so you don’t have to drive me places, and so that I could help if you…needed it.” As he walks in front of me, mumbling and rubbing the back of his head, I smile at his desperate attempt to hide his nervousness. Unfortunately for him, I know him well enough already. When his mouth starts going, it means his mind is racing, too.
“This place is nice,” I say, glancing up toward the high ceiling.
“Oh, yeah.” He stops, turning to me with his hands held behind his back.
We’re in the living room now, and instead of the clashing tastes or overcrowding I’d expect, it’s light and open. There’s a massive sofa in front of the TV and two built-in bookshelves to the sides, mostly filled with movies by the looks of it. Thefloorboards have character; they look original and well taken care of. One wall is exposed brick with a few stylish, minimalist posters on it, and there are small plants dotted randomly in the space.
“The house belonged to this old couple before their grandkids started renting it out. Martin was here first. He’s an omega,” Theo points out inconspicuously, and I wonder if it’s to make it clear to me that he’s safe to be around. If Martin and Theo can live together, heats and ruts and all, there’s no reason for me to worry. And I don’t. “He works as an architect in the city. He’s out today. I think he was kind enough to grant us some privacy. Let’s just say he can be a little…annoying, sometimes.Often. Not in a ‘horrible roommate’ way, more in a ‘not everyone’s cup of tea’ way. And he knows that about himself,” Theo notes with a chuckle.
So that’s the faint, barely noticeable scent I’m detecting.
“Then there’s Enya. She’s a chef, but to be honest, it’s almost like she doesn’t even live here. I swear, she works like twenty-five hours a day, seven days a week. I don’t know how she survives. It’s great having her as a roommate, though—she cleans up after herself, never has anyone over, and brings a bunch of leftovers from her job, so that’s always a bonus.”
With his introductory speech over, we end up standing at the bottom of the stairs that presumably lead to the bedrooms. Theo shifts on his feet, awkwardly playing with his hand.
“Do you…want me to start working on the food now?” Theo asks, with slight tension behind his words.
Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I take a step toward him. Theo’s eyes widen. I can almost see his pupils dilate. My body’s all hot again. Hot and sweaty andneedy.
That itch really isn’t going away; it’s only getting stronger, and for the first time in so long, I let myself want someone else to scratch it. Someone very, very specific. The only person I could imagine being the one to do it.
I lean even closer, tentatively brushing my fingers over Theo’s hand, now hanging limply by his side. He shivers under the touch, puffing out a gust of air into my face.
“The way you held me in the class…really got me fired up, you know?” I whisper and watch the mouthwatering way his cheeks turn red. His breath comes in short, tense intervals. As his gaze falls down to my lips, he swallows hard, the ball in his throat bobbing seductively underneath his skin.
He finally responds, carefully wrapping his fingers into mine, but that’s all he does… aside from his pheromones bubbling under the surface. I sense the heat, the ravenous energy barely contained inside him, and I want him to let it out.
But this is Theo. Against all odds and the natural chemistry undeniably pulling us together, he’s holding back, diligently waiting for my say.
“I’m not sure how I’m going to react,” I admit, voice slightly uneasy as the pressure mounts within me, too.
There’s no sugarcoating this. No matter how much I want him.
I brush my index finger over his jaw, feeling the fresh stubble—as light and blond as the ends of his hair—and take in the beautiful way his entire body quivers under it. “I don’t want this to lead to disappointment. I was going to try to ignore this, push it aside, but I also… Iwantto be intimate with you.” The last words come out of me with a strange shiver. Like it’s been something a part of me was fighting, or some magical barrier Ijust disrupted.
