Page 9 of Overeager (Extra Credit #1)

Eli

E li’s second night in the cabin was incredibly lackluster compared to the first.

He felt stupid for being so disappointed. It wasn’t like he’d expected to spend either of his nights with anyone. If anything, this was just things going back to the original plan.

But still …

How was it possible for Eli to miss someone he’d just met?

A nice beta woman arrived at what had previously been Noah’s cabin in the evening, after the cleaning service had left. She waved at Eli from her hot tub but didn’t ask for company or invite herself over.

Of course she didn’t, because who really did that?

Only ridiculously attractive, painfully young alphas with gorgeous smiles and delicious scents who disappeared like smoke in the morning but still left their number, leaving the ball in Eli’s court, as if he had any idea what to do with it now that he had it.

He thought of Noah often for the rest of his getaway.

Obviously.

Even when he didn’t want to, when he was trying to focus on mundane tasks, like washing his dishes in the sink before his departure, Eli would suddenly remember the feel of Noah’s hand on his thigh, or the way Noah’s features tightened right before he came, or the sound of Noah’s voice breaking while he asked if Eli felt good, felt as good as Noah did …

And then Eli would suddenly be fighting for air, or a trickle of slick would be escaping him, and he’d be both turned on and embarrassed by his lack of control.

He kept the slip of paper with Noah’s number on it in his pocket, taking it out to stare it at now and then, rubbing his fingers along the edges. He hadn’t programmed the number into his phone just yet. He wasn’t sure why.

Or he was sure, but he didn’t know how to articulate it. Didn’t know if he was being smart or if he was being foolish.

So on the morning of Eli’s departure, the day before the start of the semester, he did the dumbest thing he could do.

He texted his sister to meet him for brunch.

She immediately said yes, of course, and met him at one of their favorite spots, a diner that could be considered pretentious or homey depending how one looked at it.

But they served fried green tomato sandwiches with grilled bread practically soaking in butter, so Eli just looked at it as delicious.

Faith was already there when he arrived, immaculately dressed as always, with her dark hair set in elegant waves, sitting in a booth by the window. Eli took a seat across from her, unable to keep eye contact after their initial greeting.

Not with that look on her face.

“You know,” Faith said conversationally. “When I told you to get dicked down by a hunky alpha, I was being facetious.” She grinned, apparently uncaring that their server was at the table, filling their waters. “I didn’t think you’d actually follow my suggestion.”

Eli shared a horrified look with their server, who mumbled something about coming back at a later time for their order. Eli waited for the man to leave before dropping his head into his hands. “This is my nightmare.”

Faith only cackled.

Eli peered at her through his fingers. “How could you tell?”

He’d showered and hot-tubbed multiple times since his night with Noah. Even with all the extra scent marking, he highly doubted he still smelled like alpha.

“You have that look,” Faith told him, twirling her finger at him. “Like you’re—”

“If you say freshly fuc—”

“Like you’re embarrassed ,” she said, talking right over him. “And a little self-satisfied. And … guilty.” She cocked her head. “Why are you feeling guilty? If it’s about Richard, then fuck that six ways to Sunday.”

“No, it’s not that.” Eli hadn’t thought about his ex at all since the other night, his head too full of Noah. He bit at his lip, looking somewhere in the general vicinity of his sister’s nose. “He was … young.”

Faith narrowed her eyes. “How young?”

“I don’t know … mid-twenties?”

Faith’s concern was instantly replaced by a look of fierce delight, but Eli shook his head. “Don’t even say it. That’s too young for me.” He leaned across the booth, whispering, “I took his virginity, Faith.”

Faith’s jaw didn’t exactly drop, but it seemed to be a close call.

Eli might have been proud of himself for actually shocking her for once, but he was too mortified to take any real pleasure in it.

She took a delicate sip of water. Smacked her lips.

Then gave him a Cheshire grin. “Eli Miller, I did not think you had it in you.”

“Ugh.” Eli hid his face behind his menu, sliding down in the booth. “Don’t be proud of me.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it maybe not a great thing to do with a one-night stand?”

“Was it consensual?”

“Yes.”

“Enthusiastically so?”

Eli’s cheeks heated at the memory of just how … enthusiastic the consent had been. “Yes.”

“Then so what?” When Eli didn’t have an answer for her, Faith popped open her menu, perusing it like she wasn’t going to order the same thing she did every time, just like Eli. “But why one night only? That’s not usually your thing.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “I’ve been married for the past decade. There is no ‘my thing.’”

“You know what I mean.” Faith paused, and her pheromones suddenly surged, sharp and protective. “Was this dumb, young alpha using you?”

“No!” Eli insisted, grabbing her wrist for a quick, reassuring scent marking. Her pheromones calmed immediately. “And he wasn’t dumb,” he chastised. “And he left his number.”

“But you didn’t like him?”

“No, I liked him a lot.”

“Okay …” Faith set her menu down, fixing him with her stern, older sister look. “Help me out here, Eli. I’m good, but I’m not a mind reader.”

“He’s young ,” Eli said again, not sure of how else to put it. When Faith’s expression didn’t change, he tried a different tack. “Think of yourself in your twenties. Think of how … inexperienced you were. He might think he likes me, but he just hasn’t seen enough to know.”

It was Faith’s turn to roll her eyes. “That sounds like you’re talking about yourself. Yourself and Richard. Who, we’ve already established, can absolutely get fucked, and not in a good way.”

Their server, who had been bravely approaching again, did an abrupt turnaround.

Eli was never getting his fried green tomato sandwich at this point.

“I’m just saying people change their minds,” he said. “And we barely know each other. I think he was just doing what he thought you’re supposed to do. Trying to be … polite.”

“Banging and bailing,” Faith deadpanned.

“How polite. But if you don’t think he’s really serious about seeing you, then chuck his number, and you can tuck the whole thing into your pocket as a good, unexpected experience.

You rebounded!” she crowed, way too loud for where they were, gesturing the server back over. “Finally!”

They ordered, and Eli decided to leave it at that.

Faith would listen, if he really wanted to talk it out more.

She was always there for him when he really needed it.

She worked in marketing and could have moved to whatever city she wanted, but she’d followed him to Phoenix when he’d gotten his faculty position here.

It had worked out for her—she’d found herself an omega wife she adored, who adored her in turn. But still, she’d made the move for him.

And she’d listened, endlessly patient, to all his issues with Richard over the years.

All the disappointments and regrets. Eli just didn’t have it in him to bring her more relationship drama to dissect so soon.

Didn’t have the heart to tell her, “Hey, I know I only just finalized my divorce and I’ve only known this guy for one night, but I might really like him, and I’m afraid to call and find out I was wrong about it after all? ”

Faith was right. Eli should just let the whole thing be what it was—two strangers finding temporary pleasure in each other. Noah would meet so many omegas in the coming years, and now that he’d had some experience, maybe he would loosen his exacting standards, let himself experience a little more.

That was what youth was for. Not shackling himself to the first person he found that he liked the smell of. That was the road that led to divorce in one’s thirties.

So Eli would leave it at that. And he wouldn’t tell his sister he was still carrying the number in his pocket like a pathetic talisman.

Fine.

Good.

Smart.

Monday morning came much too quickly.

Normally Eli was excited to start the new semester, but he woke up to a heavy weight on his chest. And he didn’t just mean World’s Deadliest Assassin, although his cat was heavy as hell, folded into a loaf on top of Eli’s chest and purring at him menacingly.

“You have a robotic feeder,” Eli told her, too sleepy to sound properly stern. “So don’t look at me like that.”

In the next second, the telltale sound of the feeder going off echoed through the house, and Deadly proved his point by hopping off him and running for her breakfast.

Eli was tempted to hit snooze on his alarm and pretend the day didn’t exist for another half hour, but he liked a leisurely morning before work, and sleeping through it didn’t hold the same satisfaction.

So he rolled out of bed to take his shower, donning his robe afterward and pouring himself a cup of coffee to take into the yard.

He fished some leaves out of the pool, sipping slowly, enjoying the cool of the morning.

Should he sell the house?

It was the thousandth time he’d asked himself that question in the past year.

It seemed like he should have been making some sort of bid for a fresh start, but he and Richard had only moved there right before the separation—their version of a Band-Aid baby, though not the version Richard had wanted—and it wasn’t like Eli was dodging happy marital memories left and right.

Richard had barely been at home in the end, and he definitely hadn’t put any of himself into the house. It should have been Eli’s first sign that things were really ending—Richard not having a thousand fucking opinions for once.