As I finish, I hear my phone buzz. Making sure the door is shut, I flush the toilet and walk over to the sink—but it isn't my phone buzzing.
It must be one of theirs. My eyes graze over it while I wash my hands. The logo of the alert is… familiar.
Oh.
Oh God.
I know that logo.
It's theHeatseekersapp.
And there—across the screen—"A new heat support booking awaits! Will you accept…" Their business that they were all so proud of. Their support business.
Oh no.
No no no no no.
I stare into the mirror above the sink while the water trickles over my hands.Think logically, Adeline Timmerson. Pull yourself together.
I force myself to breathe deeply. I rack my brain for the research I did for Lauren's heat support packs, back when she first registered for Heatseekers—I could never have afforded the app for myself.
Heatseekers isn't some random social media heat support app. It's not Packr or any gross random hookup. To be good enough to be allowed to be booked via Heatseekers—allpack members need police clearance and working-with-omega checks, you need to have at least one medically qualified pack member, at least one pack member with a master's in heat support or omega studies, at least one pack member qualified in psychology, psychiatry, counselling or psychotherapy, and there are minimum physical fitness requirements that are on par with the marines. All packs are bound by strict confidentiality clauses and registered and licensed with the state government.
Heck, the pack I booked for Loz's heat have a PhD and three professional master's degrees between their pack members. Not to mention a former Olympic athlete. Their three-week booking clocked in at over two hundred and fifty grand. And they aren't even, technically, in the highest tier.
These men… they must have shaped their lives around getting their pack on the app. But my omega seems to think that they'rehers. But they can't be. If they were, my omega would never let them do the things they have worked so hard for.
Ican'tbe the one who takes this away from them.
And the worst thing is that they seem like the kind of guys who would throw away everything to 'do the right thing.' I know I haven't known them long enough to know this about them, but… something in my gut tells me that Allen's ethics wouldn't let him walk away from an omega his pack had slept with who said she was his. James seems like the kind of alpha who would move his life around for anyone who said he was theirs. Zeke's kind protectiveness wouldn't let him hurt someone who claimed him as her own.
Ican'tput them in that position. I just... can't. I'd never be able to forgive myself for stealing that away from them. Hurting them like that.
My omega is confused. She wants her alphas. I try to soothe her, telling her we have to protect them, to keep themsafe. But she isn't having a bar of it. My hands are trembling as I dress myself.
I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the building pressure in my chest.
Maybe I could tell them that last night was only a casual thing. Just for last night and for my next heat. I picture myself telling them the lie I know they would need to hear, that I just want to keep things casual between us. I imagine Ralph's face when I tell him that their jobs and our relationship are completely independent—
There's a twanging in my chest and a churning in my gut. I want to throw up. I can feel my lips quivering. I know I have to tell them that, but I know I'll never be that good an actor. Not to get through the conversation without completely falling apart.
… I don't need perfect words to be worth hearing.
I want that to be true. So, so badly. Maybe it is when they're the ones doing the listening. But if they listen to me, when I try to explain why we need to keep things casual, then they'll hear the lie. And then I'll be the one who costs them everything.
… I won't even be able to stay to explain, will I? They will see right through me. And then I'll lose it.
I crack open the door to the bedroom. The shaft of light falls on Seb's peacefully sleeping face, soft with contentment. He turns his head away from me.
I shut the bathroom door.
I don't think I can even face tiptoeing through the room they're in. My omega wants to throw herself on them.
What the hell have I got myself into?
… there's no good way out of here.
Whatever I do next… if I wake them…
