Page 22 of Knot So Social

What do I do? I had a car accident while having no insurance. But I wasn’t at fault, right? Do I pay now, or call tomorrow for more instructions? No point me paying for insurance on a car that won’t ever run again.

My head aches and I lean back on the pillows. I’ll call someone tomorrow.

Under the sheet, my belly churns, warning me that my entire system’s in overdrive right now. I reach for the silver basin beside my bed just in time to throw up in it. Every retch makes my head throb.

Solve things one at a time, Mom always says. As a great multitasker herself, the advice never seemed suitable, but she repeats it whenever a problem arises for Dad’s sake. Transport is a problem, but not my primary one. We have good enough public transit, not to mention Ubers and all. I’ll get around all right, so long as I leave on time. No, leave earlier.

Once my stomach stops trying to turn inside out, I wash my mouth out and return to the job search app. A sponsored ad catches my eye.

Are you a caring, responsible alpha with a soothing presence? Heat Wave is looking for new staff for our omega-assistance program. Competitive rates and hours available for the right applicants. Take our questionnaire now.

A nurse bustles in and beelines for my vomit bucket.

“I can do that,” I say, holding out one hand to block her.

She smiles. “It’s best you don’t move around too much yet, Mr Williams. You’ve had a big event.”

Her gaze tracks down my arms to the bandages over some scratches.

I move my hand away. “Well, thanks. And I’m sorry you have to put up with that.”

“It’s okay. That’s my job. Ninety percent of what we do is cleaning.”

“Do you like your job?”

She chuckles and hefts the bucket. “You’re asking me that right now?”

I return her smile with a floppy one of my own. “Yeah, I guess not so much when cleaning vomit. In general, then?”

“Well, in general, yes. I like helping people, and I’ve always had a good mind for emergencies.” She cocks her head. “From what I hear, you do too, running to the other cars to make sure everyone got out safely.”

I bat her comment away. “Pish. Anyone would do that.”

She smiles like she knows a secret. “No, actually. Did any of the other drivers come running toward you?”

“That’s different. They were hurt worse than me.”

She shrugs one shoulder. “A concussion is no small injury, Mr Williams. If anything, it’s more dangerous. So, be a good patient and try to rest, yes?”

She looks meaningfully at my phone before turning away.

“One more question,” I call, and she turns back.

“Do you think I have a soothing presence? For an alpha?”

“Oh, most definitely.” Her eyes light up. “I can’t say this is scientific, but I think it’s in the pheromones. Some alphas put you on edge, like you never know what they’ll do next. And others, like you, make people feel as if their shift hasn’t been as bad as they thought.”

She ducks her head and strides for the door. I grunt softly, watching her go. That’s just because I talk a lot and listen even more. Chat usually puts people at ease.

The phone warms in my hand, drawing my attention back to the ad. I’ve been driving past the Heat Wave clinic every day for the past four months. It’s very accessible.

“What do you think?” I breathe out so no one else can hear, spreading my legs.

I’m an alpha, with an alpha sized cock and a thick knot that springs to attention even before I’ve come the first time. That might be handy for an omega. Joel’s girlfriend meant it as a put-down, but maybe I should use what I’ve been blessed with.

Can’t hurt to do the questionnaire right?

I go through the checklist, which starts with basic information about my health and physicality, then dives into sexual preferences. For availability I tick all hours, at which point I learn Heat Wave also offers home visits. No wonder they need someone responsible.