Chapter 18 Killian #2
The hostess seated them at a booth, and Killian slid in after Chase, choosing to sit next to him rather than across. It was their first time out of the house since the rut, and Killian needed to be close to his beta with those possessive urges still so close to the surface.
Although, it did help that Chase still smelled of Killian. Not the rich sex pheromones of a rut—they’d showered thoroughly, using scent-neutralizing soap to aid the process—but the usual leather-and-cherry scent that always coated Chase after effusive nuzzling and petting.
Killian ordered beers for them both—he’d drink Chase’s if the beta wasn’t up for it—and slung an arm around Chase’s shoulders.
Chase startled, then relaxed into the touch. He tilted his head to peer up at Killian. “You know, this is a really elaborate way to trick me into eating chicken soup.”
Killian grinned. “Nonsense. I was going to suggest the rare steak pho. It’s the better option here.”
Chase shook his head, seemingly unconvinced. “I’m really fine, I promise.” He took a swig of his beer, letting out a small, contented sigh, his weight resting against Killian. “But this is nice. Thank you.”
Killian grabbed his own beer. “Were you getting a bit stir-crazy, sweet boy?”
“Maybe it’s just nice to breathe in some fresh air.”
Killian huffed out a laugh. “I’m going to choose not to be offended.”
“Please. You know I like your scent.” Chase toyed with the corner of his menu. The tips of his ears had gone pink. “I’m covered in it often enough.”
“Are you?” Killian asked mildly.
“I don’t even have to look at you to know you’re looking very smug right now.”
It was true—Killian was looking quite smug. He couldn’t have helped it even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. He had his beta out on a date, in public, and they were flirting. And practically cuddling, since Chase hadn’t made any move to wiggle out from under Killian’s arm.
This was progress. Killian was sure of it.
They ordered their food—Chase blushing becomingly when he ordered the chicken pho after all—and then they settled in to wait.
“Did you always know you wanted to go into academia?”
“Mm.” Killian considered. “From fairly early on. I enjoyed college in a way I hadn’t been expecting. I wanted to continue learning. And once you go for a doctorate, teaching is the obvious path.”
“And you’re good at it,” Chase added.
“Some would disagree.”
Chase rested his head against Killian’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m good at.”
“I recall you being a very good student,” Killian told him, trying not to sound like a complete pervert and failing miserably.
“Yeah, maybe, but I’m the same in all my classes. I’m a decent student, but I don’t excel at anything in particular.”
“And you’re not going into the family business? I’m not dining with a future real estate mogul?” Killian teased.
Chase shook his head without so much as a smile. “He’s never mentioned. And—” Chase lifted his head, tensing under Killian’s arm. “Um. Well. Speak of the devil.”
Killian followed Chase’s alarmed gaze to find a middle-aged man approaching their table. “Is that your father?”
Killian didn’t know what he’d do if it was. From the little he’d learned, he’d come to loathe Chase’s parents. Killian didn’t think he could be the slightest bit civil, even for Chase’s sake.
“No.” Chase sat up straighter, but Killian kept his arm around him because fuck if he was going to let some stranger scare him into doing otherwise, and he knew Chase was too polite to blatantly shrug him off.
“It’s one of his business acquaintances.
I’ve had to sit through so many dinners with him. ”
The man arrived. He was one of those aggressively fit men in their late fifties that Phoenix overflowed with in the winter, overly tanned in a way that suggested many hours spent on one golf course or another.
“Chase, my boy,” he boomed, louder than Killian deemed necessary. “I thought that was you.”
Chase smiled at him politely. His voice, when he spoke, was firm and easy. “Mr. Hansen. It’s good to see you.”
Mr. Hansen’s gaze kept darting between the two of them, and while he was too mannered to blatantly sniff the air, Killian saw his nostrils flare. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
Chase cleared his throat. Perhaps he was realizing that he reeked of Killian’s pheromones. “Oh, no. Mr. Hansen, this is—”
“Professor Killian Burke, pleasure to meet you,” Killian broke in, holding out the hand not currently wrapped around Chase’s shoulder.
Mr. Hansen didn’t attempt to hide his surprise as he shook Killian’s hand.
“Professor, you say? Pleasure, I’m sure.
Well, I’ll let you two get on with it. Until next time, Chase.
” He made as if to leave, then turned back, a slight edge to his voice.
“I can’t wait to tell your father I ran into you. He’ll be so … delighted.”
Chase made some vague sound of assent, and Mr. Hansen walked off with a beaming smile, joining a small group leaving the restaurant.
Chase watched him until he was out the door. “I guess he’s going into Phoenix real estate too,” he said dully.
Their food arrived shortly after, but the easy flow to their evening had been altered. Chase was clearly distracted. He seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if Mr. Hansen was going to return at any moment and interrogate him further.
Killian wasn’t sure what the issue was, exactly. It could be weeks before the smarmy asshole spoke to Chase’s father, and Chase’s father didn’t seem that interested in his son’s life in the first place.
But Killian didn’t press. If the publicity was what Chase was worried about, it was possible going slow was no longer an option.
For now, Killian put it out of his mind and focused on helping his beta relax again.