“Nothing.” He slowly straightens. “I gotta go.”
“Wait. Tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?”
He shakes his head, his face white, his hand between his legs. “No. I just need. To go…”
“Oh God, I’m sorry. I hit you… there? But I didn’t do it that hard, I?—”
“It’s fine. It’s getting late. Practice those moves. We’ll talk.”
“Yeah… right.” I watch him go, hunched over, limping, his T-shirt forgotten on the floor, and wonder if I got in a lucky (or unlucky) hit because he seems to be in so much pain. “Let me come with you. Maybe we should go to a doctor?—”
“Fuck, no!” He throws me a glare over his shoulder, his eyes glittering. “Don’t even think about it. It’s bad enough that I’m like this all day and night because of you, I…” He seems to run out of words because he shrugs and leaves, pulling the apartment door closed behind him.
Because of me? Yeah, I elbowed him, but if he’s like this all day and night… Like what exactly?
Curiouser and curiouser…
28
ZACH
This is fucking impossible. Literally and psychologically impossible, goddammit. What’s happening to me?
I fume as I limp home, fume and groan with every step, trying to figure out this puzzle and failing. Who could I talk to about this? My dad? My mom?
Hell, no.
A doctor. I’ll have to make an appointment. This can’t keep happening. I realized that she means… something to me. I want to see her. She’s in my thoughts. In my dreams. In my fantasies, and not only the sexual ones. When we started talking, when we kissed, I chalked it up to the usual attraction I get to random girls, but it feels different.
I’ve been looking forward to seeing her again while she refused to see me all week, and now… Now this idiot that is me finally sees and touches her, and what happens?
Another knot.
Every time I’m around her, I pop a fucking knot! Like a hormonal teenager, unable to control my body’s reactions. She may be an omega but she’s not even in heat.
So what the hell is going on with me?
When she elbowed me right there… fuck. The agony of a punch in the dick, but make it twenty-fold. I thought I was going to die, or break down and cry like a little snotty boy.
Fuck!
I whip out my phone as I reach my street and scroll to find the number of our gym physician. He’s a friend of Cole’s, Cole being the owner, and he’s retired and hangs around the gym for emergencies.
But it’s late. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
The shower is beckoning, as does my right hand. I’m going to rub my cock raw if this doesn’t stop soon. I should invest in a good lotion.
That’s not a solution, idiot. You have to stop popping knots. But how?
Lost in thought, I almost crash into another alpha. I know it’s an alpha right away from the intense, deep scent.
“Fuck, sorry, I… Ryder?” It’s the tattoo artist who inked that fucking phoenix on my chest. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. I remember you from that night. You were so drunk. Are you drunk again? You’re walking kinda funny.”
“No.”
“What’s the matter with you? Did you have an accident? Shall I call someone?”
