called my brother Samuel?”
“No, you are listed as the first point of contact. Do you wish me to call him?”
“No, I’ll do it.” Deep down in the far recesses of Dorian’s mind, a small child began to scream. He shoved away the image and focused on his present. On the bad news he was about to deliver to his only surviving—no, the eldest of his two surviving brothers. Symon might never acknowledge him, but Dorian wholly accepted Symon as his brother.
“If you have any questions over the weekend, please call me at this number.”
“Thank you, Mr. Polaski.” Dorian ended the call without any further discussion, unsure what to say or do now. He wanted to call Hyatt, but Hyatt was preparing for a celebratory party soon, and he didn’t want to pull his bondmate’s mood down. He ought to call Samuel, but it was the weekend and what if Samuel had a date with his husband?
No. As upset as he was, Dorian could handle this himself for tonight. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin Hyatt or Samuel’s night with this news.
One ruined night was already one too many.
Seventeen
The next morning, Hyatt bounced from foot to foot on the sidewalk, stupidly eager for his breakfast date with Dorian. If his phone sex session with Dorian the day before had done one single thing for Hyatt, it had been to cement his confidence in himself as a man and an omega. A desirable omega.
He’d been glad when Peyton hadn’t answered his phone call, because it had been impulsive. And while Dorian hadn’t sworn Hyatt to secrecy, he wasn’t comfortable telling someone else about Dorian’s unique condition. It wasn’t his business to spread around. So he hadn’t left a message, simply texted that it wasn’t important and Hyatt would see Peyton at the poly marriage celebration.
Hyatt had forgotten more new names than he could have possibly remembered, because the hosting triad had invited work friends, along with the familiar extended family Hyatt already knew. Part of him resented Dorian for not being there as his bondmate, but another part of him was proud of himself for being there alone. For talking to strangers about Light House. It was definitely a boost to his flailing confidence.
Peyton had tried to question him once about the missed call, but Hyatt successfully brushed it off and got some Caleb snuggles instead. Overall, the party had been fun, and he’d gone home stuffed full of pizza, salsa and chips.
Dorian’s car approached from down the block, and Hyatt did a little shimmy in place, excited to see him again. To see for himself that Dorian was truly okay after yesterday’s cycle. He flung himself into the passenger seat as soon as the car idled in front of his building, and he leaned over for a good morning kiss.
“You know,” Dorian said, “I don’t mind picking you up at your front door once in a while.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to disturb my roommates.” While the party had been fun for most involved, it had ended on a slightly dramatic note for Aeron and Khory. “They took Asher with them to the party and put him down in one of the bedrooms to sleep, but around ten he woke up screaming and pulling on his ear. He had a fever, so they took him to Emergency. Turns out he has an ear infection, and they didn’t get home until after two in the morning.”
“Ah. That sucks for poor little Asher.”
“Yeah, but apparently, it’s not uncommon for kids his age, and he’s got antibiotics to treat it. I just wanted to let everyone sleep in since it’s the weekend.”
“Good man.”
Dorian pulled into light morning traffic, and Hyatt took the time to study him. His profile was a bit pale, his eyes weary. He didn’t look like he’d gotten a lot of sleep either. Then again, Hyatt didn’t know how his cycles physically affected Dorian, beyond the slick. “How was your night?” Hyatt asked.
“All right.” He paused at a red light and rubbed one hand over his eyes. “I had some pretty terrible dreams that kept me up.”
“Dreams about what?”
“My omegin, mostly. I don’t usually remember what I dream about, and these were so nebulous. More emotion than images.”
Hyatt was a tiny bit jealous that Dorian could dream about his omegin, bad dreams though they were. All Hyatt knew about his own were a few surface details and what he looked like. “Why do you think you were