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“Are you okay, Saph? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I laugh. “I wish. A ghost, I could handle.”
“That bad is it?” she gives me a sympathetic smile. “I can help if you need to stay late …”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. She offered me the job. I just have to do something first.”
She blinks at me. “She offered you the … That’s awesome!”
I nod, sitting down, feeling dazed. “It’s awesome. For sure.”
“I’m so glad it’s you, and not you-know-who,” she adds, quietly, rolling her chair over to the side of mine, leaving her phone resting face up in her lap.
I force out a smile. She frowns at me in concern, so I quit trying to act happy.
Glancing down, my gaze is drawn to her phone.
What the hell?
That can’t be right. I must be seeing things.
There’s an image on her screen of a guy who looks a whole lot like my boyfriend.
He doesn’t just have the same smile, or the same eyes.
It’s literally the same guy.
It’s Ben.
“What is that?” I ask Jules.
She looks down and shrugs. “Oh, nothing. I just like to check my matches in the mornings. Nothing like dick pics and lewd inuendo in your inbox to make the day a little brighter.”
I blink at her and look back down at the logo on the top corner of the screen.
Oh my God. I recognize it from the ads we run in the personals.
“That’s a dating site?” I ask, shock rolling over me.
“It’s Every Beta,” she confirms, frowning at me and then passing me the phone.
I take it from her with a shaky hand.
The guy she matched with is Ben Blackmore, the same guy I’ve been in an on-off relationship with practically ever since I started working for the magazine.
His profile states that he’s single and ready to meet his perfect mate.
My whole body feels like it’s trembling as I look at him, the man I’ve been unable to break away from because I thought we had some deep connection that was holding us together despite our circumstances. He’s smirking in the picture, his gaze searing, exactly like it does when he’s ordering me into bed.
I scroll down and see the final two words on his profile.
Omegas preferred.
“Saph, what is it? What’s wrong?” Jules asks, touching my arm.
I shake my head, my stomach churning madly. I shove the phone back into her hands and grab the trash can from under my desk, dry heaving over it. My only saving grace is apparently that I didn’t have time for breakfast. I close my eyes and tell myself I need to stop this. Now.
“Oh, God, are you pregnant?” Jules sounds shocked as she blurts out the question.
