Omega Teacher’s Secret

shoulders, muscular frame. He was downwind, though—Ian couldn’t catch his scent.
Feet away from the alpha, Gwen slowed, and the man looked over.
Honey-brown eyes, strong jaw, tanned skin. Ian’s stomach flipped.
What were the chances that you’d meet this very same alpha, here in a parking lot on a Christmas morning?
How did you even begin to say, Hello Brad, this is your daughter?
There was nowhere for Ian to hide. He couldn’t do an about-turn and stride away. Not when Brad’s gaze flicked up, and locked with his.
Ian stopped breathing. Brad’s bow faltered. Then Brad looked between Ian and Gwen, back and forth, like he wasn’t sure he should believe what this looked like—a father and his daughter on a trip to the mall.
Brad stopped playing. He tapped the pedal-board with his foot so the looping music stopped.
And now Ian couldn’t run, because Brad’s full attention had locked onto him. He grimaced. “Merry Christmas? Fancy seeing you here.”
Sounded like the lamest greeting ever.
Brad stared, his throat working. “Hey.”
His voice was rough, like he hadn’t spoken to anyone all morning. It sent a shiver down Ian’s spine, much like Brad’s music had. Hard to forget that voice in his ear.
“Who’s that, Daddy?” Gwen asked.
Ian fought down a groan. It wasn’t as though he could hide his relationship with Gwen, now that Brad had seen her.
“’Daddy’?” Brad echoed, his gaze sharpening with betrayal. “I thought… you said you didn’t have an alpha.”
Ian’s chest tightened. He hadn’t meant for Brad to misunderstand. “I don’t. This is my daughter, Gwen. Hon, this is Brad. Say hi to him.”
Gwen waved shyly. Brad stared at her, and there was a maelstrom of emotions in his eyes that Ian couldn’t pick apart. He didn’t know if he wanted to. He could hardly breathe, with how Brad was looking at him like he wanted something. Answers, maybe.
It wasn’t like they owed each other, though. They’d never been a couple. Just acquaintances.
“How come your violin has a wire?” Gwen asked.
Ian closed his eyes, wishing he’d never stopped to look at Brad at all.
“It’s called a cord—that’s because it’s an electric violin,” Brad said with all the patience in the world. Ian couldn’t help cracking his eyes open.
Brad took a step closer, his gaze heavy on Ian. Then he knelt before Gwen, lifting the violin away from his chin. “See the way it connects to the amplifiers? When you play on one of these, the sound comes from the speakers, instead of the strings like a regular violin.”
Brad disconnected the cord, dragging the bow across his strings.
Gwen stared. “There’s no sound!”
“Nope.” Brad reconnected the cable and played a chord. This time, the notes rang, bright and cheerful.
Gwen stared at the speakers, then the violin, absorbing the information.
“How old are you?” Brad asked before Ian could stop him.
“Six.” Gwen beamed. “My birthday’s in February.”
Brad narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to figure when she had been conceived. In another few seconds, he’d realize who she was.
Ian panicked, tugging Gwen away. Can’t let him find out. “C’mon, hon. Time to go. Say bye to—to Brad!”
Brad glanced up. “Wait.”
Ian kept walking, his heart thundering, praying Brad hadn’t already deduced the answer.
“Ian,” Brad said.
Ian’s heart stumbled, and he tripped. Lurched forward. He flailed, releasing Gwen’s hand so he didn’t drag her down. No time to save himself.
“Daddy!” Gwen yelped.
Ian hit the concrete with a thump, pain jolting through his hands and knees. “Ow, fuc—fudge.”
Gwen hurried forward, peering worriedly at him.
Somewhere behind, Brad swore, his footsteps thumping closer. Then he crouched next to Ian, wrapping strong arms around Ian’s chest, pulling him upright. “You okay?”
His breath puffed warm on Ian’s ear, and Ian shivered. Brad felt better than he’d expected.
Brad took Ian’s stinging hands, rubbing the heels of his palms. Then he squeezed down the length of Ian’s forearms, watching Ian’s face. “Anything hurt?”
Ian shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Just checking. I’ve seen my share of injuries.” A shadow flitted through Brad’s eyes.
It made Ian wonder what Brad had seen. They weren’t close enough for him to ask, though. At least, Ian was trying to keep him at arm’s length.
“I didn’t know we were on first name terms,” he muttered, brushing off his hands. “Really, Brad?”
“It’s the First Name attack,” Brad said, smiling wryly. “Haven’t you heard of it?”
“It’s super effective,” Gwen said.
Brad laughed, the sound curling into Ian’s ears. “You’re a cool kid, Gwen. Have you been playing video games?”
Gwen beamed. “I’ve got lots! And I got some new ones today.”
“That’s right—it’s Christmas. I almost forgot.” Brad glanced at Ian, his smile fading.
Ian leaned away, realizing too late that Brad’s arms were still around him, his palm stroking down Ian’s side. His warmth soaked into Ian’s shirt, and it was comforting, breathing in Brad’s familiar walnut scent.
Ian shouldn’t be sitting on the sidewalk in Brad’s arms, but he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
“You never told me,” Brad murmured, soft enough that only Ian heard. “I didn’t know you have a daughter.”
Ian gulped. Why would you care? “You should be free to hunt down the next notch on your belt. No need to hang on to me.”
Instead, Brad leaned in, brushing his nose against Ian’s ear. “I told you, I’m not interested in anyone else.” Then he paused, his nostrils flaring. “You smell sweet.”
Shit. Ian grimaced, turning away. “Look, I have to go.”
“You know what you smell like,” Brad said, his eyes growing sharp.
Ian couldn’t meet his gaze. Why can’t I stop fucking up?
“Is it mine?” Brad asked, hesitating. “We didn’t use a…”
“I don’t know, all right? I just found out this morning.” Ian clambered to his feet, easing out of Brad’s arms. He was the one who had messed up with his heat. Shouldn’t drag Brad into it.
“Did you sleep with anyone else?”
“Daddy sleeps with me,” Gwen said brightly. “There’s only one bed at home.”
Ian wanted to crawl into a hole, and never show his face again. Brad’s stare burned into the side of his head.
“I really have to go,” Ian said, brushing