Page 25 of Swipe My Alpha
"He doesn't deserve to have his car keyed."
"Everyone deserves to have their car keyed when they fuck up. It's motivational."
From the living room, Shay's voice: "Who are we keying?"
"Nobody," I say. "Go back to sleep."
"Can't sleep. Soren is making French press in the kitchen and narrating the process like a cooking show."
"It's an art form," Soren calls from the kitchen. "The grind matters."
This. This is what I have. This apartment full of people who will key a car for me and make me tea and pretend they're not worried while being deeply, obviously worried. I pull the flannel tighter around myself and drink Milo's tea and try not to think about the nest sitting empty in an apartment across town.
Someone knocks on the front door.
Everyone goes quiet. It's early. We don't get visitors before nine unless it's a delivery driver or someone's walk of shame going to the wrong apartment.
Shay gets up from the couch. Opens the door. And goes very still.
"Hey," Rhys says.
I can hear him from Benji's room. I can smell him from Benji's room. Like someone opened a window to a different season. My omega lurches toward it so hard my whole body tenses.
"Hey," Shay says, flat. He doesn't move out of the doorway.
"Is Jude here?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"I need to talk to him."
"He needed to talk to you last night too and you asked him to disappear for six weeks, so."
I should get up. I should go to the door and handle this myself. But I can hear Benji sitting up in bed behind me and Milo's hand is on my shoulder and I can't move because part of me wants to see what Rhys does when the door doesn't open.
"You're right," Rhys says. "I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I'm not here to make excuses. I'm here because I did something last night and he needs to see it."
"You can tell me and I'll pass it along."
Rhys's voice drops. Quieter now, something raw underneath the steadiness. "Please. I just need five minutes."
Shay watches him for a long moment. Then he steps aside, not welcoming, just making room.
I get up. Walk to the hallway. Rhys is standing just inside the front door, still in the clothes from last night, his hair uncombed, his eyes red like he didn't sleep either. He looks like he drove an hour to get here and didn't stop for coffee and he's holding his phone in his hand like it's the only thing keeping him upright.
"I'm not ready to hear a speech," I say.
"I didn't bring one." He holds the phone out to me. "Read this."
I take it. The screen is open to his sent emails. An email to Dr. Albright, timestamped 11:47 PM last night. I read it.
Dr. Albright,
I'm writing to formally disclose that Jude Park, a student currently enrolled in my Gen Ed section, is my fated mate. We were matched before the semester began, and the bond was confirmed through scent recognition. I should have disclosed this immediately and I take full responsibility for the delay.
I have already submitted a transfer request to move him to another TA's section. I am prepared to accept whatever professional consequences you deem appropriate, but I will not conceal this bond or ask my mate to hide it.
Respectfully,Rhys Calder
