Chapter 11 - Andrew
The day of my second injection appointment could not have come sooner. My knee was grinding again, like a sack full of broken concrete. I was keeping most of the pain to myself, or at least trying to, because I didn’t want to disappoint Gabriel. Training had become impossible again, though.
The other reason for my anticipation was, of course, Bridget. I hadn’t spoken to her very much at the gala, but watching her and Gabriel dance had felt like a kick to the head.
When we’d gotten back to the apartment, he’d kissed me savagely, like he was trying to claim me as much as I’d claimed him.
There was the faintest hint of Bridget’s sweet floral scent on him, and it stirred up a beast in me as well.
Where usually we were loving and playful, Gabriel was rough and demanding.
A fierceness flowed through the bond that we’d never shared before.
“You can court her,” he said as he slid into me. “But she will never fuck you like this.”
Afterwards, when whatever fire in his blood had cooled, and he lay in my arms, we talked more.
“This is enough for me,” I murmured. His head was on my chest, right above my heart. “You know that.”
Gabriel pressed a kiss to my skin. “Yes. We are enough. But maybe, with the right person, we could be more.” Love pulsed down the bond.
We had only met three times, but my parents had always said, “When you know, you know.” That was even more true for Alphas.
When a scent hit you like Bridget’s had hit me, you couldn’t ignore it for long, no matter how hard you tried.
I’d tried to ignore Gabriel’s, tried to keep things professional, but it was a losing battle.
The biological draw of an Omega was even stronger.
I’d seen that draw firsthand. Even with their issues, my parents’ connection was as strong as ever. Or it had been the last time I’d seen them.
And now, suddenly, I imagined my future with Gabriel, Bridget, and me as a pack.
The three of us as a little family. Gabriel and Bridget cheering me on at Wimbledon.
Listening to Bridget talk about her latest research and having it all go over my head.
Helping Gabriel finally start his own private security firm, which he’d been putting off for years.
It was crazy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Obviously, it’s ultimately up to her.” I needed to rein myself in.
“Of course,” Gabriel murmured sleepily. “But how could she say no to us when we are both so handsome and charming? Now let me sleep, amore.”
The appointment immediately got off on the wrong foot.
Dr. Davis apologized for missing me last time and administered the shot after a nurse took another blood sample.
I just wanted him to shut up and leave the room, but I forced myself to engage in small talk about the gala and how much money I’d helped raise.
“And man, I’m so sorry about that crazed woman showing up in your room,” he said. “We’ve had a stern talk with the security team about not letting people up unless they have appointments.”
He didn’t mention it was Bridget’s mother, so neither did I. When Gabriel had confirmed it by talking to the clinic staff on our way out that day, I’d wanted nothing more than to go back upstairs and take her somewhere safe. What could have happened to make her so terrified of her own parent?
“No worries,” I said. “Gabriel handled it.”
He gave Gabriel a wary smile. He could probably tell Gabriel had no patience for him.
Patrick slapped his thighs and stood up. “Well, alright, we’ll see you in two weeks for another blood draw.”
“Wait. Aren’t the researchers going to come in and… talk?”
Patrick frowned. “Do you still have questions for them?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
“I have questions,” Gabriel said, sensing my floundering in the bond. “He is hurting again, and I want to know why.”
“I’m more qualified to speak on medical issues,” Patrick said. He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Do you want me to order a scan? It could be the scar tissue solidifying again.”
Gabriel waved a hand. “You can order a scan, but we want to meet with the researchers again. Or is that too much to ask when we have just given you another one hundred thousand dollars?”
Patrick scowled. “Of course, it’s our pleasure.” He slammed the door on his way out.
“Stop mentioning the money. It’s tacky,” I hissed.
“Tacky? Sei fuori… You are crazy to be calling me tacky.” He was sitting in a chair this time, rather than the windowsill.
A knock on the door broke off our argument. “Come in,” I called.
Bridget entered, looking as delicately beautiful as she had in the ballroom, even while wearing a lab coat. I smiled before I could stop myself.
The other researcher stomped in behind her. When he looked at me, my inner Alpha went on alert. Descenters dampened his pheromones, but he still radiated hostility.
Gabriel had warned me he might have a crush on Bridget, and this seemed to confirm it. Or maybe he just really hated tennis.
“I understand you have questions for us?” The Alpha said. His voice was dangerously polite.
“What was your name again?” I asked, unable to resist needling him.
“Dr. Manalo,” he replied. The polite mask stayed intact.
“Good morning,” Bridget said, glaring at him before gracing us with a smile. “Sorry he’s being so rude for absolutely no reason. We’re happy to answer any questions you have.”
“Thank you both. He is having pain again. We want to know if we can expect the results to last longer. Dr. Davis said they could be permanent,” Gabriel said. He sent me a mixture of amusement and disapproval in our bond.
To his credit, Dr. Manalo considered the question seriously.
Nathan, I remembered. “In theory, the cells should work on rebuilding and repairing your cartilage tissue. But that process can take time. One way traditional stem cell therapy works is by encouraging existing cells to send out signals for regeneration. That could have been why you initially experienced reduced pain. But if the cells aren’t integrating properly, then results may only be temporary. ”
“Is the pain at the same level as before?” Bridget broke in.
“No. It’s still better than it was,” I replied.
“It may just require more material to repair the damage to the cartilage,” she said. Her eyes had gone distant as she considered the idea. “I wonder if any of the other subjects have seen these kinds of temporary improvements.”
“You don’t know that?” I asked.
“We have access to the data, but it’s really not our goal to track these kinds of incremental outcomes,” Nathan responded, a little defensively. “We will analyze things at the end of the study for overall results.”
“And in the meantime? You do not care about how the patients are doing?” Gabriel asked, his voice just as dangerously polite.
“No! We care. But we don’t normally get to speak with subjects like this,” Bridget said.
Gabriel nodded, satisfied.
Nathan cleared his throat. “If that’s all?”
“We’ll let you get back to work,” I said, hopping up to shake his hand. My knee throbbed as I stood. “Thanks again for your time.”
They turned to leave. Bridget gave Gabriel a small wave and met my eyes briefly.
“Wait, Bridget, could you stay? For a minute?” I asked.
Nathan halted in the doorway. His expression wasn’t polite anymore. It was one of outright hatred.
“Oh. Um. Why? I mean… yes.” Bridget’s cheeks flamed. She saw Nathan’s expression and her own hardened. “I’ll see you back in the lab,” she said pointedly.
Nathan hesitated and met my eyes. I gave him my best, most annoying smile and he swept out without another word.
“What a brute,” Gabriel said. He stood and held his hands out to Bridget. “Now that he is gone, can we say hello properly?”
Bridget was twisting her hands together, but she pulled them apart to slide into Gabriel’s outstretched hands. “He means well. I think.”
I held my tongue. I didn’t need to insult the competition in front of her.
“You look as ravishing as always,” Gabriel said. He kissed Bridget once on each cheek, leaving her adorably flustered.
“Thank you,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. She removed her hands from his grasp and tugged on the lapels of her jacket, like she was adjusting her armor. As if a lab coat could keep me from noticing how gorgeous she was. “What did you need?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“We wanted to ask you on a date,” I said. It was always best to be direct. That was the surest path to victory.
Bridget’s eyes grew wider. “A what?”
“A date,” I said again, enunciating clearly through my smile.
She looked between both of us, then blurted “Why? Aren’t you gay?”
I laughed, surprised.
“Only me, carrissima,” Gabriel said gently. “This one… he is a reformed puttaniere. Man-whore.”
“Oh, come on. That’s unfair.”
“I said ‘reformed.’”
Bridget watched this exchange without moving.
I stepped closer to her. I saw her nostrils flare and her pupils dilate as my scent intensified. She was wearing too much descenter for me to sense her reaction, but the visual cues were more than enough to make hope flare brighter in my chest.
I reached out a hand, slowly, palm up. Bridget stared as if it were a wild animal. “I won’t bite. I promise.”
She cautiously placed her small hand in mine. I pulled her wrist up to my nose and inhaled. There it was, that faint trace of flowers and honey. My heart rate ramped up. I could feel her own racing pulse when I pressed my lips to the thin skin of her wrist.
“What you’re feeling, that pull, I feel it too,” I said. My voice was almost a growl.
“You do?” Her eyes were nearly black.
“You’re intoxicating.”
She withdrew her hand from mine and clasped both of hers together. They twisted together so furiously, they might never come apart again. Her deep breath was ominous. “We can’t… date.”
Disappointment, the crushing kind that I usually only associated with losing a major, hit me square in the chest. Gabriel’s sympathy in the bond didn’t help much.
“Why not, carrissima? If you are worried about me, you should not be. I like you very much, and I want to get to know you, too. Even if I do not want to get to know you in quite the same way as him.” Gabriel gave her an encouraging smile.
“That’s not… I mean, that is something I would worry about, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a huge conflict of interest.” Her voice was becoming brisk and businesslike again. “It’s completely unethical to… date a subject.”
“Is that your only concern?” I asked. “Because the study won’t last forever. And I’m willing to wait.”
Bridget swallowed. “I honestly don’t know. This is the first time I’ve reacted like this to someone.” Her gaze darted briefly to the door. “But I know we can’t even entertain the possibility right now.”
Did she not realize what we might have? Even without sensing her full perfume, I could tell we were a scent match — the kind of match that didn’t just fall into your lap.
I checked the impulse to show her just how much our connection could blossom.
To take her in my arms and purr for her again. To fall on my knees and beg.
I would never force myself on her. Instead, I sat back on the paper-covered table.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” I said instead, and I was happy I managed to actually sound sorry. “That was not my intention.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry that things are—” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We should probably not… interact anymore.”
“Of course.” My ego might never recover, but I wouldn’t show it.
“If you have questions, Dr. Manalo will still be an excellent resource.” She was backing toward the door.
“Sure,” I said.
“Have a great, um, day.” Bridget left the room, and I wondered if it was the last time I’d ever see her.
Gabriel’s arms wrapped around me from behind. I could feel his own disappointment in the bond. “Do not worry, amore mio. She will come around.”
For the first time, I wouldn’t bet on myself for a victory.