16. Jeremy
Chapter sixteen
Jeremy
Things must be bad for Joel if he wants to sleep at my cramped place again. Well, he did seem off, ever since he growled at me on the phone that day. Maybe his fiancé really dumped him.
But I don’t have time to mull over his problems, because I’m too busy cramming my brain with every scrap of information about omegas, heats, and first aid I might ever need.
Luckily my physical report was fine. When they asked about my scrapes and found out I’d been T-boned at an intersection, all the staff got so concerned for me.
Logan asked if I needed more time before beginning work, but I assured him I'm fit for purpose. And since my wounds will be closed before I see any clients, the medical staff weren’t worried.
The psych analysis also went well. Apparently I’m not a psychopath or narcissist, so that’s a positive.
And the heat training? Most of it’s common sense, and in a strange way, a culmination of many things I’ve learned in totally odd places.
Like bits of sports massage from high school football training, and correct lifting techniques from a warehouse job I had once, and trauma response from that one time I did a stint as a 911 operator.
I’d thought I was completely out of my depth here at Heat Wave, but each new certification I tick off seems deeply meaningful. Like this is where I’m supposed to be.
And that’s a brand-new sensation.
An alpha walks into the staff room and grabs a water bottle from the fridge.
“Still slaving away, new guy?” he asks, flashing me a cocky grin.
“No rest for the wicked,” I quip, leaning back in my chair and stretching out the cricks in my neck.
He walks over and offers his hand. “Simon Roudler. I’m a service officer here.”
“Jeremy,” I say, flashing him a smile. “Service officer in training.”
The alpha has a nice, firm grip, but brings with him a flood of intense scents, like a candle shop. Creamy strawberry musk mixes with cloves and star anise, the combination burning my nostril. All of it signals that a lusty omega’s nearby.
Simon hoists himself up on the tabletop beside the center-issued laptop and studies me, his eyes tinged with sleep shadows. “So, what do you think?”
I shake my head. “I’m a bit overwhelmed, to be honest. How do you not worry every single minute you’re with an omega?” I tap the wide computer monitor. “I mean temperature checks, wellness checks, self-control.”
Simon scoffs, but it doesn’t seem ill-natured.
“The clinic has to go through all this with you, legally speaking. But once you get in the room, your instinct kicks in at another level. You crave making her, or him, comfortable. You catch every nuance in their scent.” He claps a big hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry so much, my friend. Alpha instinct is a force of nature. ”
“Have you had any real emergencies?”
“Hmm.” He tips his water bottle up, gaze sliding away from me as he drinks and wipes his mouth.
“Yeah, once or twice. Sometimes you just can’t get the heat fever down, no matter what you do.
Occasionally it’s because the omega has severe trauma.
But in my experience, most of those cases come through the emergency station here. ”
He hooks a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the first floor. “You know, the ones who’ve been abandoned mid heat, or live with betas who don’t know how to help them but are afraid of authorities. Stuff like that.” He covers a yawn. “Man, I’m beat.”
“Just coming off duty?”
“Yep, and she went longer than usual. Six days.”
I blink in surprise. “Can one alpha handle that alone?”
Simon holds his hand out flat and wobbles it from side to side. “Depends on the client. The calm ones, yes. The wild ones? Not so much. They get several alphas who take shifts or work together, as do the omegas who request multiple service officers.”
He hoists himself off the table and rubs his face with his shirt. “Shit, sorry I forgot how much I smell. Didn’t mean to wave that in your face.”
I chuckle. “Part of the job, right?”
He winks. “You catch on quick. Well, I’ll be seeing ya.”
“Simon, wait.”
He pivots by the door, chin lifting.
“Um, how do you get used to walking away from them? No emotions and all that.”
He glances both ways out the door and scans the office before answering.
“It’s just sex, man. Yes, we take care of them, but at the end of the day, they’re using us to fix a biological urge, so no need to make it something grander than it is.
” He shrugs. “You get too sensitive about it, and this job will tear you to pieces. Now, I really need to crash.”
With a wave, he disappears.
His answer settles inside me like a sliver of ice.
I mean, it’s not surprising . . . that’s what I’ve been telling myself for days. But I don’t seem to believe it yet, or rather, I’m doubting my ability to be so detached.
I return to my studies, immersing myself in omega law.
Besides monitoring the omega’s physical health, the thing that’s being most stressed is bonding rules.
Under no circumstances can I bond a client.
Outside of an employment contract, the act carries a penalty of years in jail and a fine, plus covering medical expenses to undo the bond.
In a position of trust like this service? Gross negligence and abuse of power also get tacked onto the charges.
My kit includes a silicone mouth guard to use if I have any inkling of desire to bond.
“Jeremy?” Someone knocks on the door.
I jerk, knocking my mouse to one side.
“Gosh, sorry,” Debbie says, striding in. “You must’ve been deep in concentration.”
“Omega law. Heavy stuff,” I offer with a lame grin.
She returns my smile. “I’ve got the profile of your first client here.
Her name is Willow Sheldon. Thirty-two years old.
” She places a black folder on the desk next to me.
“This is her confidential file, which does not leave this center. You’ll get access on your clinic-issued device once you’re certified. ”
I nod and draw the folder closer, my stomach fizzing. Flipping it open reveals a double-sided sheet. The woman’s profile photo drills into me, her intense gaze seeming to peer through the very paper. Blonde, blue eyes, a casual arrogance in her posture that asks what are you looking at?
She’s fucking beautiful.
Covering a cough, I run one finger down the page. “How does she like to do her heats?”
Debbie sighs and leans on the back of a chair.
“That’s the problem. This is her first heat with us, and her first cycle in a couple of years.
It will very much be a process of testing your way through and asking her directly as you go.
” She slumps down low. “To me she sounded pretty triggered, so you’ll need to be gentle and go slow.
Normally we’d never dream of putting a new officer with a new client, but—”
“You’re short staffed,” I supply.
She flashes a floppy grin. “Right. Simon’s just come off shift, and Kaden’s on leave. Plus Rhett, Angel, and Luca are out on a combined job.” With one hand she readjusts her hair. “If you don’t get certified in time, God help us.”
“How long do I have left?” I ask.
She checks her watch. “You need to get over to the first aid training by 2pm.”
I check the time on my phone. “Okay. I’ll skim the theory again and head out.”
She nods. “Just so you know, the management don’t take things like this lightly. You go over and above, and they look after you. I don’t want you thinking anyone’s taking advantage. This is a great workplace.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t worried, but now I’m even less worried.”
Debbie laughs and heads out. Once she’s gone, I pull the client sheet closer. Yeah, I need to study, but I can’t resist reading every line of Willow’s profile twice over. She’ll be my first—first on duty, I mean—and I don’t want to screw this up.
As I stare at my future client, a rush of energy swarms through me. I’ll definitely get all the paperwork finished by tomorrow so I can be certified, even if I have to study all night. I’ll do everything in my power to support this omega through her heat.
So long as we keep feelings out of it, like Simon suggested, it’ll be fine.
I tap my finger over Willow Sheldon’s profile photo. What exactly happened to such a beautiful woman that left her traumatized by her heats?