Page 85 of Stolen Omega

“You’ve done it before?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly. “No. I’d literally never thought about being with an Omega until I saw you, Dale. I’ve wanted this since before Cherise made you her best friend. I’ve done a lot of research into what taking an Omega mate means.”

I might find that hard to believe if I couldn’t feel what he’s feeling. The euphoria that he’s in just standing here with me is hard to ignore, and that’s dangerous territory. I could get lost in his emotions, let myself believe they’re mine.

It would be so damn easy.

“No one even knew who I was before Cherise.”

He smiles. “The only Omega in our high school? Everyone’s always known who you were. If I could have gotten the guts to push Marianne off my back sooner, I would have.”

He means it, and I’m starting to feel real butterflies now, more than the start of that sweet sensation. I know that’s because this is about more than what I am. He likes me for me. The real version of me. The nerdy kid at the back of the class who barely looked anyone in the eye. I was invisible back then, but he saw me.

Slow down, Dale. He’s got way more experience than you do.

Don’t forget he’s been hitting on you while letting everyone think he’s Marianne’s.

You need to think about this more before you make a mistake.

“How often have you cheated on her?” I ask, watching him closely.

His expression jumps to shock, mirroring his emotions. “What?”

“If you hate Marianne and she’s blackmailing you, I assume this isn’t the first time you’ve …”

He laughs. “You really don’t get how special you are, do you?”

“I guess not.”

“You’re the one I want, Dale. The only one. There hasn’t been anyone else.”

Okay, that’s a bit more than a casual secret boyfriend kind of deal.

A vague sense of discomfort follows the initial burst of relief.

He wants me as his mate.

We barely speak to each other. He knows virtually nothing about me, and yet I can tell his teeth are tingling with the urge to mark my throat.

Fuck. Maybe he can sense my desperation.

Some Betas actually do have a little bit of Omega or Alpha in them. They can be a little empathic, or extra intuitive. It feels like he has a bit more going on than a regular Beta.

“This is moving kind of fast,” I admit.

He smiles. “We can slow things down. I’m not going anywhere.”

If he’s really been into me for as long as he claims, he probably means that as much as it feels like he does. Something inside me melts at that thought.

Typical Omega. Reassurances make me weak at the knees.

I’m feeling pretty fucking weak right now.

“We could have a drink,” he suggests, raising an eyebrow. “I have whiskey in my locker.”

“You have whiskey in your locker?”

He laughs. “I stole it from the teacher’s lounge a while back.”

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