|Fire On Fire|~PerthSaint Imagine

Chapter 3

Saint

I sat there staring at my hands and wished the ground would open up underneath me. That the universe would do what I wanted for once and allow me to disappear. I could feel Perth's eyes burning into the side of my head, but I couldn't bear to look into them again.

The thing was, he was right. Everything he'd said was true. I didn't remember it all right away, but as he spoke, it was like a movie playing in my head in slow motion. I saw all of it. I remembered every single moment. And I could still feel him inside me. I even started tingling and getting hard when the memories came back. I had an impulse to grab him and kiss him and I wanted to feel his cock filling me up again. Suddenly, I wanted him so badly I couldn't think straight.

I didn't understand what the hell was going on. I'd never felt anything like this before in my life. I'd slept with plenty of other guys before—tons of betas and some omegas—but that's all it ever was. Just sex. All my adult life I'd never been sure if I was even capable of associating love or feelings or anything like that with sex. I always figured I was built differently. That I was a loner and always would be.

But now I felt so different. I actually wanted Perth to touch me. But not just touch me ... I wanted him to take care of me ... be with me ... love me. And that scared the hell out of me because I'd never thought those words in my life, let alone said them to anyone. And there was no way in hell I could say those words to him. I was an actor for crying out loud.

"That's why I brought this up, Saint. We need to talk about what we're going to do if you are pregnant."

Before I could answer—or pretend like I was going to, because I didn't think I'd be able to get another word out for the rest of the day without bursting into tears—a call came through on his phone. A hold up on the other side of town. Perth replied that we were on our way and took off, which put an abrupt ending to the conversation.

For the rest of the day, everything was business as usual. Perth didn't bring up anything that had happened last night again and he didn't seem to be addressing me any differently. But every time my eyes caught his I could see it. That look of pity. That look that told me exactly how he felt about me now that I was an omega. He didn't respect me or see me as an equal anymore. How could he? Omegas were second-class citizens.

Always had been, always would be. No matter how many token omegas they stuck in high-powered positions. They were for show. To make it seem like we had come a long way since the days of birth farms and sex houses. Nothing was ever really going to change.

When we got into the precinct, I ducked out before he had a chance to bring last night up again. I drove home, picking up some Chinese take-out on the way, then crawled into bed, turned on the TV, and hid from the world.

I knew everything Perth said to me today was true. That I had not only transformed into an omega overnight, but that I had thrown myself at him. At my best friend and partner. I was humiliated and couldn't even fathom facing him at work.

I was incredibly relieved that none of what had happened that night came up the next day, or the day after that. An entire week went by without any kind of conversation between the two of us other than work-related discussions. A part of me hoped that maybe the whole embarrassing event would pass by without ever coming up again. But I had a feeling that I wasn't going to be that lucky.

Especially when I started having problems keeping anything down. Another week passed since that embarrassing conversation, and everything Perth said had been continually spinning around in my head ever since. I made every effort to avoid him or any casual conversation that might lead to an opening for him to discuss my possible pregnancy.

At first, I chalked it up to the flu. The constant queasiness and mornings spent huddled up in one of the men's room stalls were easily dismissed as that, or food poisoning. But after a week of no other symptoms, I had to consider other possibilities. Or one possibility in particular.

"You okay?"

I could hear Perth shuffling around outside the stall door and I hoped if I didn't say anything he would go away. In that moment, I wanted everything to go away. My whole miserable life. "Of course I'm okay. I must have eaten something bad, is all. I'll be out in a minute."

Perth didn't say anything, but I could still hear him right outside the door. He wasn't going to leave me alone so that I could be miserable in peace. "All week?" Perth asked finally. "You've been throwing up every morning for a week straight, Saint. I think you need to go to see a doctor."

I stood up and pulled the stall door open and there he was. The big, hulking alpha that did this to me. And even though I was still unable to admit to myself what was going on, I blamed him. For everything. I wanted to let him know how much he was annoying me, but I was feeling too weak to yell at him like I wanted. So, I pushed past him and yanked on the door so it slammed shut behind me.

"I don't need to go to any freaking doctor," I said as I stalked over to the sink and gripped it, trying to keep myself from shaking. I bent down and rinsed out my mouth, then wash my hands for way longer than necessary so I didn't have to look up at the mirror and see him staring at me with that look of pity I was sure he had plastered all over his face. I was furious, and I wanted to blame someone for what was happening to me, but deep down I knew it wasn't Perth's fault.

As much as I wanted to pin this on him, I knew the person I was really angry with—the one I couldn't forgive for betraying me— was me. This was all my fault. I was the one that had turned into a week, simpering, pregnant omega. There was nothing to blame but my own goddamned genes.

As I stood there and watched the water spiral around in the sink and down the drain, I realized that what I really wanted, more than anything in the world, was for Perth to come up behind me and wrap his arms around me. I wanted that big, hulking alpha to make it all better. But how could I ask him to do something like that when it had never been a part of our relationship? We were both big, strong men who could take care of ourselves.

That's how I had come to define myself—through my strength and my ability to be of service to others. How the hell could I let myself be the weak one? How could I let someone else take care of me? Especially the alpha I looked up to more than any other person in my life? "I'm ready," I said, still avoiding eye contact with Perth. I dried my hands and pushed my way through the men's room door without looking back. "Let's get out of here."