To say my parents had been impressed by the hostility rolling off of Andrew throughout their entire dinner was an understatement, but how they turned it into my issue perplexed me. I never asked them to set me up, but they went about meddling and then it had become my problem when things went awry.

Which was how I ended up in the filing disaster room at work, or as they called it—the data center—where old files went to to die. Two days I’d been in there with no end in sight, sorting through old boxes, scanning files, and then putting them back in the same exact spot where they would continue to stay until they were but dust. It was not only busy work, it was unnecessary busy work since the scanned files were harder to search through than the paper versions with the data entry system they were using.

On the plus side, it gave me time to think. On the negative side, it gave me time to think.

The gala, once Andrew had been removed from my attention, had been a magical evening, Parker and I quickly falling back into our old roles as an alpha and omega in a loving relationship. The problem, however, was we weren’t in a relationship, and even if we attempted one, there was so much between us that it could only end in disaster.

That hadn’t stopped me from daydreaming we were still together and happy happy, none of the badness having ever happened. It had been easy to do with his arm wrapped around me, his scent enveloping me, and my old friend Jace sitting with me, laughing the night away, love for his mate shining in his eyes and growing in his belly. Darn. I was turning sappy. I needed to get my life on track. No more files. No more living at my parents. No more hiding from reality.

I’d spent the night before researching what I needed to do in order to practice law locally. It was remarkably easier than I had feared, as long as there had been no official paperwork filed at my termination. In theory, the employer needed to inform you if such a thing were happening, but the state was notorious for being back logged, so I couldn’t be sure. I liked to think that my boss saw through the BS that went down, but I ran out of there and hid at my parent’s instead of facing it head on out of fear. I worked to hard to lose everything and chances were not slim that I already had.

Something about being with Parker, being treated as more than just an omega, as an equal, by such a powerful man bolstered me enough to research. So, baby steps.

“You in here, Miles?” my father called into the room. Of course he knew I was, since he was the one who sent me to my current data organizing purgatory.

“Probably for the next two weeks,” I called back in frustration.

“Miles.” The censure in his voice was reminiscent of the one he liked to whip out in my youth when I was caught drinking or staying out too late. Wonderful. “I have been looking for you.”

“I’m right where you told me to be.” I sighed in exasperation.

“You haven’t answered your mother’s texts.” The way he spoke, it sounded as if I had ignored twenty messages from her spanning the course of weeks. True, I should’ve messaged her back at least, but his response was disproportional for the offense at hand.

“One text, and she asked me to call her when I got a chance. I will.” I had already planned to call her before I headed out to meet Marcus for dinner, something I still wasn’t sure was a good idea, but he begged, saying something about a hot new owner, and I caved quickly, still feeling guilty for throwing his brother his way unannounced.

“That was yesterday.” Father wandered to the files as if checking my work. Not that he’d see anything to indicate what was and what wasn’t done.

“I will call tonight.” I wanted to add that she could’ve come out for breakfast that morning, but bit my tongue. I knew her absence was a power play, making me follow her request and honestly, at that point, I was willing to cave.

“She expects you to bring your friend to dinner Sunday.”

That was the last thing I expected to hear. Hostility over being stuck with an angry Andrew all night—sure. Disappointment over using the ticket they purchased for me when from all appearances I already had one—possibly. Bring your new guy to dinner —not at all.

“My friend?”

“I’m not going to call him your alpha.” Ah, so it wasn’t a happy request.

“Good, because he’s not.” But he had been at one time, and denying him now felt slightly wrong. “He was a date.”

“Perfect. Andrew was just mentioning he had box tickets to a game coming up and he was thinking of inviting you.”

I busied myself with the file in my hand not wanting my emotions to show. How could Father still be on that train?

“I’m not going out with Andrew,” I finally said when the silence became too strained. How was it that my father could have me back into scolded teen mode so easily?

“I see no reason not to.”

I slammed the file down. So maybe I still was that petulant teen when it came to my dad.

“I do.” And before I could stop my self I added, “Parker Spears.” Inutile recently, I had prided myself on my honesty, but in less than one week I’d told so many whoppers, my nose was going to reach the next room well before I did.

“You said he was not your alpha.”

“Let me rephrase, he is not my alpha—yet.” I couldn’t believe the words slipping from my mouth. What had I just said and more importantly why did it not feel like a lie?