Scott’s jaw hurt. He should probably go to the dentist soon, except he couldn’t afford a dentist and this guy he was apparently married to was probably going to kill him in his sleep. Okay, the show probably had some kind of screening process, right? They didn’t let actual psycho killers onto the show?

“It’s going to be an awful long year if you don’t even talk to me.” Scott’s husband spoke from the other side of the limo. They sat facing each other, because Scott couldn’t stand to sit next to the guy. Not that Danny - his name was Danny, at least Scott thought so - was particularly offensive in and of himself. He looked okay, in a bald, “I’m too busy to take care of my hair so I shaved it” kind of way. He didn’t smell bad. The most offensive thing about him was the gold band on his finger.

“Sorry. I’m still in shock.” What were the odds that Danny would attribute Scott’s horror and shock to some good cause like joy? Not high, probably. Not if that blathering voice-over that went with the introductory montage had been at all accurate.

“Let me guess. You’re overwhelmed with delight.” Danny snorted. “This is getting off to an awesome start.”

Scott clenched his fist. Danny wasn’t even looking at him, so he wouldn’t see it as a threat. Danny hadn’t looked at Scott since he passed out in the studio like the heroine in a Victorian potboiler. “Look, you have to admit that this is kind of a shock.”

Danny glared at him. “I expected to leave that studio a married man. How is it that you didn’t expect the exact same thing?”

Scott looked out the window. They were being recorded. Anything he said now would be broadcast to the entire world. Was his dad out there watching? Probably. How would he react to the idea of Scott being married? Would he fly into a rage like he had when he caught Scott kissing Drew Hansen under the bleachers, or would he shrug his shoulders now that Scott hadn’t been his problem for almost ten years?

“There’s one of you. You had one reason for going onto that show - finding a husband. There were a thousand of us to start with. Plenty of us auditioned for reasons that had nothing to do with you. I did it to give moral support to my roommate.” That should be safe enough, right?

Danny curled his lip. “So you went and paraded yourself around for the camera, knowing you might be chosen, and you didn’t even want it?”

“I figured the odds were in my favor. And yeah, I’ve never been a big fan of the idea of marriage. But here I am.” He rubbed his temples. His head hurt now. A migraine was on its way, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“You’ve only got yourself to blame. If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” Danny nibbled on his fingernails.

Scott clutched at his stomach. “You sound like my father.”

“He was a wise man.”

Scott was going to be sick. How much further could Danny’s place be from the studio, anyway? “Plenty of people thought so. You’re welcome to have him come and spend the next year with you, and I can go back to my place in Astoria.”

Danny rolled his eyes as the limo pulled up in front of a tall old building. “Much as I’d probably prefer his company, the contract says you have to live here. So.” He slid out of the car and made an exaggerated bow. “After you.”

Scott sighed. He could probably run, but that would just cause legal headaches. He crawled out of the limo and put his feet on solid ground.

The doorman didn’t bat an eye when Scott followed Danny into the building. Either Danny made a practice of bringing his hookups home or the doorman had been briefed on the situation with the TV show. Scott would bet on the latter. Maybe the former was true too, but Scott decided not to speculate. Let Danny have all the hookups he wanted, as long as he kept his hands off of him.

Not that that seemed to be on Danny’s mind at all.

Danny had the penthouse, and what a penthouse it was. If Scott was a materialistic kind of guy, he’d have been impressed. He was still kind of impressed. The guy had a hot tub overlooking New York City, how could he be anything but impressed? Maybe Scott could survive the next year - if, of course, Danny traveled constantly.

“Do you want the tour or do you want to sit there and grope your way around a strange place in the middle of the night by yourself?” Danny flopped down on an expansive white couch.

Scott scanned the space. “Which room is mine?”

“Pick one that isn’t mine and move your crap into it, I guess. Something tells me the helpful souls from the show put your stuff into the master.” Danny flipped the television on. “I haven’t had a roommate since college and I’m not starting with a dude who passes out at the thought of honoring a contract.”

“Wow.” Scott scratched behind his ear. He’d had just about enough. “Yeah, okay. If there was… um, any chance of this getting tolerable it just went out the window.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny turned from whatever crap he was watching on TV to give Scott a scornful look.

“Go to Hell.” Scott stalked in and out of rooms until he found the one that had his things and began the process of moving them into another bedroom. Just to be on the safe side, he found the bedroom farthest from the master and put his things into it.

It didn’t take long. While it had felt like he and Grant were drowning in things in their apartment in Astoria, they could have fit ten of the Astoria apartment into this place with room to spare and most of that junk had been Grant’s. The team from Make It Work hadn’t bothered with furniture or any of that stuff, only with his clothes and personal effects, so he didn’t have much at all. It probably should have taken longer, but Scott hadn’t gotten used to lugging a lot of stuff around with him yet and he didn’t think he cared to.

And then he was alone, in a strange room the color of a robin’s egg, in silence. The spare bedroom on the far side of the house didn’t have a TV, of course. It didn’t have a sound system. It didn’t have anything. It was for guests, who would be expected to spend time with their host because even Danny must have someone out there who liked him.

Scott took a deep breath. He had a room. He had a bathroom of his own, too. He could lock them if he wanted. He had an income of his own, and he had a laptop. He didn’t need to depend on Danny for anything.

He figured out the wifi password quickly, which was good given that he wasn’t about to ask that jerk with the ring on his finger for anything, and he sent his bosses a quick update to let them know he’d be in at work the next day. Then he went through his evening exercises, his evening yoga routine, and got ready for bed.

He ran into Danny the next morning on his way out the door. Danny was not, apparently, much of a morning person. He squinted at Scott as he slouched past and then shook his head. “Oh, that’s right. I thought it was all a dream. Maybe a nightmare.” He turned back to his coffee.

Scott stopped in his tracks. Maybe he shouldn’t engage, but he couldn’t stop himself either. “You’re the one who actually wanted to get married.”

“Okay, but I expected to marry someone who actually, you know, cared about me. Or cared about getting married. Not whatever you’re supposed to be.” He snorted. “Did you even tell them that you didn’t want to get married?”

“As a matter of fact I did. It’s right there on the dumb audition form they probably didn’t bother to read. Or maybe they did. Maybe they sat there and said, ‘Hey, you know what will get people to watch? We’ll pair this guy up with an abuse survivor who’d rather jump off the Empire State Building than let someone touch him. And we’ll pair this abuse survivor with an entitled prick who only gives a crap about himself and his needs and thinks getting married is like hiring a secretary.” He turned around and headed for the door.

Danny jerked his head back, like Scott had hit him. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Work. I’ve got two jobs.”

“You’re married, Scott. You don’t have to work.”

“I’m married for one year. You think I’m going to be able to get a job after this horror show is done if I just walk off the job like that? ‘Oh, why are you looking for a job now, Mr. Thorburn?’ ‘Well, you know, I had a great thing going at this dojo in Astoria but I quit it to get married for a year.’ I’d never work again.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Danny shook his head a little. “Your key’s on a hook by the door. I guess I’m just a little surprised you wouldn’t take time off or something.”

“Why would I do that?” Scott blinked and left.

Today he had the joy of working at the midtown gym, with its pushy clientele. He usually hated working there, because the clients were not the type to take no for an answer. When people saw the ring on his finger, though, it got worse.

The women clients were irritating but tolerable. They wanted to know why they hadn’t been informed, because they would have gotten him a great deal on flowers or centerpieces or whatever the hell other kind of crap went along with a wedding. Scott sure as hell didn’t know. The alphas, though - they were mad.

One tried to corner him in the locker room. “What in the hell has this guy got that I haven’t got, huh?” He crowded Scott against the wall of orange lockers. “Why would you say yes to him and not me?”

Scott took a breath and tried to stay calm. This guy was just some meathead and Scott was a grown man with a hell of a lot of training behind him now. He could defend himself. He didn’t need to panic. “The decency to take no for an answer, for one thing.” He set his jaw and tried to remember his would-be suitor’s name. “Back off, Steve. I’ve already had to deal with you once.”

Steve let out a little growl. “You were just playing hard to get. Maybe you like it rough.”

“You’ll never know.” Scott’s heart raced in his ears, but he didn’t even have to break a sweat to turn the situation around. He slipped out from under the creep’s arm and spun him around, slamming him into the locker face-first before he knew what was happening. “Pro tip? No one owes you a damn thing.”

“You dislocated my shoulder!” Steve wailed into the orange metal as a handful of men looked on.

“Put your hands on me again and see what I put out of place.” Scott stepped back and walked out to the front desk to file a report, which would also result in having Steve’s membership terminated.

Most of the other alphas at the Midtown gym were able to keep their hands to themselves, especially after Steve’s example, but Scott still wanted to scrub his own skin off of his body. He was grateful to head out to the dojo when his shift ended, back on his own turf where he could push the anxiety of the day away.

He stayed at the dojo working out until late, when he grabbed takeout from his favorite Greek deli and headed back to the apartment. He found Danny there when he arrived, which he guessed made sense given that it was his house and all that. It smelled like curry - he must have gotten takeout too.

“Not much of a cook, are you?” Danny smirked at Scott as he walked in.

Scott rolled his eyes. “I work two jobs. I have no days off. If I take time to cook, and that’s a mighty big if, I make something quick and cheap.”

Danny shrugged and nodded. “Two jobs sounds like a lot. But I guess I put in long hours at my one job, so maybe it’s not that different. Of course, I’m not working for anyone else. I’m working for me.” He watched as Scott sat down at the breakfast bar, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let Scott sit there. “If you’d gone to college you wouldn’t have to work two jobs.”

“Statistically speaking, that’s not true.” Scott dug into his eggplant sandwich. “College isn’t a guarantee of high earnings anymore. Now if I’d gone to trade school, and become an electrician or a plumber or gone into HVAC, I’d be doing pretty well for myself. But my brain doesn’t work that way. I wouldn’t have been much good in any of those jobs, so here I am.”

Danny frowned. “What is it that you actually do?”

“I teach martial arts. And I do fitness instruction at a chain of gyms during the day, because they have health insurance.” He smirked. “Glamorous, I know.”

“I see.” Danny sighed. “It’s like they picked two people who couldn’t have less in common. We have nothing to talk about and no chemistry at all. Although the idea of an omega jock is kind of unusual.”

Scott counted to ten. “Thrilled as I am to provide a tinge of exoticism to your otherwise corporate existence, I don’t think they picked us based on what would be best for us. They don’t give a crap about us. They care about themselves - their ratings, their income. They want butts in seats, watching the show. For that, they need conflict. To get there, they need a pair that’s going to give them drama. No one’s going to tune in to watch us cuddle on the couch and watch baseball.”

“I hate baseball.”

“Baseball hates you too, but you don’t see Carter Bowman getting up on national TV to tell you that.” Scott took another bite out of his sandwich.

“He’s a Hellion, you know.” Danny leaned back and set a cushion behind his back, like he was trying to get comfortable. Was he trying to have a conversation?

“Okay? That’s great for him?” Scott looked at his sandwich. The sandwich couldn’t explain why he should care that a baseball player was part of an old boys’ club for rich alphas, but at least it wasn’t trying to force a conversation.

Maybe he should be less standoffish. He didn’t like Danny, but Danny did seem to be trying. “So what is it that you do watch out here?”

“Business news.” Danny sat up straighter. “Stocks, bonds, corporate news. That kind of thing.”

“Sounds… um. I’m sure it’s scintillating to you.” Scott finished his sandwich in one big bite, in an effort to get away as quickly as he could. “It’s not my cup of tea, but it doesn’t have to be. Anyway, I’ve got a busy day ahead of me tomorrow. Long day of classes, that sort of thing. I’m going to go and get ready for bed.” He policed his trash, making sure to leave no trace of himself in Danny’s pristine kitchen, and slipped into his bedroom.

Danny didn’t wish him good night. Scott didn’t want him to. One day down, three hundred sixty-four to go.

* * *

Danny liked routines. They made his life more predictable. Dating messed with routine, which was one reason he’d never enjoyed it much. He’d figured getting a husband through Make It Work would cut down on disruption, and it had to some extent. He settled down into a routine with Scott within a few days of their marriage, and when he got right down to it the routine wasn’t much different than his routine before marriage.

That wasn’t what he wanted from married life. Sure, he wanted routine, but he wanted a new routine. He wanted his omega to be home for him when he got there, preferably with a home-cooked meal. (Roast beef on Sundays, something vegetarian on Mondays, chicken on Tuesdays, and so on.) Sex three times a week, on predictable nights when Danny didn’t have an early meeting.

As days stretched into weeks, and weeks stretched into the first month, Danny’s guts clenched in anticipation of change that never came. Scott took up grudging residence in the smallest guest room and pretty much never came out. Well, he came out for their mandatory Confessional sessions, but that was about it.

He avoided conversation, and he never, ever let Danny make physical contact with him. The only time Danny had touched him had been when he’d passed out in the studio. Danny could still remember the feel of Scott’s silky-soft hair on his skin.

He had a Confessional session on the one-month anniversary of their wedding. Confessional was awkward, and it was silly, but it was just one more piece of absurdity in this whole regrettable marriage. Danny had already absorbed it into his routine and accepted the shame of it. The Confessional consisted of sitting in one of the spare rooms with Amos Yates and some crew people while Yates asked him leading questions about the past few days, or about some other crap that didn’t matter. Neither one of them got to see the other’s Confessional sessions, and they wouldn’t until the episode aired.

Today, Danny sat across from Yates. Yates sat primly in his chair, with that little smirk on his face that just begged to be punched off. “So, Danny, you’ve been married for one month. How are things going?”

Danny snorted. “I think calling this a marriage is like calling Scott an omega. It’s a lie and it’s fake and it’s obviously a joke. And I resent it.”

“Such venom!” A giggle hovered just on the edge of Yates’ voice. “Why do you think Scott is a fake omega, Danny? That’s an awfully big accusation.”

“Oh come on, seriously? Omegas are supposed to have strong sex drives. They’re needy. Horny. Scott, as it turns out, has broken bones on multiple alphas just for touching him. It’s been a month and he’s shown no interest in sex, or in me. He doesn’t cook. He doesn’t eat at home, except for that one time. He sleeps in his room, and he showers there, and that’s it.”

Yates pursed his lips. “I see. Well, that is certainly a problem. Of course, one could make the argument that the environment isn’t exactly inviting.”

Danny sputtered. “My house is a goddamn palace!”

“Of course it is. Of course. But… you haven’t exactly welcomed him with open arms. From the start, you made it clear he didn’t meet your standards.” Yates crossed his legs.

“And he’s welcome to start trying to measure up any time now.”

Yates tittered. “I’m afraid, Danny, that marriages don’t work that way. As he himself pointed out to you, he’s not an employee. You have to give in order to receive. Are you at all attracted to him?”

Danny started to laugh, and then he remembered the feel of Danny’s hair on his wrist. “He’s not unattractive. Objectively speaking, sure. I could probably make myself go there. I don’t force myself on anyone, though. And honestly, I’m pissed that I’d have to. I’m not exactly some troll here. I’ve got a lot to offer.”

“But how is he supposed to realize that if you two aren’t communicating, I wonder?” Yates’ eyebrows ascended into the heavens, possibly independent of his conscious control. “I think it’s time to nudge things along a little.”

Danny recoiled. “You can’t force him, that’s disgusting.”

“It would be disgusting, and illegal, but we’re not going to do that. We are, however, going to force the two of you to spend some time together in one another’s company. He has a night off from the dojo on, I believe, Sunday. The two of you will have a date. Your first, I believe.”

Danny scowled. “A date? Are you serious? We can’t have a date, and not on Sunday. Sunday is the day when I get ready for the work week, and he said himself he doesn’t have any days off.”

“He works during the day. It’s happening, Danny.”

And so Danny found himself preparing for a date he didn’t want, with a partner he neither liked nor respected. The producers from Make It Work told him how to dress, and they whisked Scott away to get him the right clothes because he apparently didn’t have any suits, but that was as much control as Danny had over the whole thing.

The producers sent a limo to take him from the apartment, where he’d been pacing for the past hour, to a high end restaurant that insisted on calling itself a tavern not too far from the house. He didn’t need a limo to get there, it was absurd. The show needed to film him going there, though, and that was the important thing. He shook his head at the absurdity of it all and babbled about automated trading. It wouldn’t be useful footage, and it would piss Yates off.

He waited at his table for a good five minutes before Scott was led over. Scott looked amazing, even with that deer-in-headlights look to his eyes. His gray suit emphasized the perfect V of his body and his hair had been professionally styled instead of tied back in a ponytail. When he got closer, Danny could see that he’d even had a manicure. A flash of need jolted through him. This whole thing was absurd, but at least he had a smoking hot omega on his arm.

Scott took his seat, maybe a little gingerly. “So,” he said, eyes darting around the dining room. “This is awkward.”

Danny frowned. What was awkward about it? Okay, plenty of things were awkward about it. Neither of them wanted to be there and they didn’t have anything to say to one another. “They should have given us conversation cards or something.”

“Right?” Scott managed to huff out a little laugh. The smile, slight as it was, transformed his whole face. “So. Hellion Club, huh?”

Danny squirmed a little. He couldn’t quite forget the presence of the cameras. They were unobtrusive, phone-sized cameras on the tables around them, but he could feel their gaze like evil little eyes. “Yeah. You know, it’s a good opportunity for like-minded alphas to come together. That kind of thing. It was a buddy of mine there who suggested I put myself in for Make It Work. He’d found his husband through the show, and they’ve been together for four years, so it seemed worth a try.”

“Have they really?” Scott grinned. “I’m happy for them.”

“You are?” Danny did a double take. “I thought you weren’t a big fan of the institution of marriage.”

“Sure.” Scott looked away. “I know I’m… er, not exactly husband material. But I like to see people get their happily ever after, you know? My buddy Grant, the one who wanted to go on the show in the first place, he’s a huge fan.”

“Huh.” Danny could have kissed the waiter when he brought over the wine and first course from the tasting menu. He was spared having to ask why Scott thought he wasn’t husband material, and he honestly didn’t want to know.

Rather, he did want to know. Scott was handsome. He was a hard worker, even if he wasn’t at all educated. As their evening progressed, he showed he was clearly intelligent. Sure, he had an unfortunate history, but plenty of people went on to live perfectly happy and fulfilling lives after surviving trauma. Why did Scott think he couldn’t?

They went home in the same limo. Danny thought about kissing Scott good night, but Scott still got tense if Danny got too close. Danny sighed about it, but he refused to get too upset. He understood, at least a little bit, what was behind it. Scott wasn’t just pouting and sullen about the whole marriage thing. He was damaged and in pain.

He sent a message to Sol Delaney the next morning. Sol was an executive vice president at Valor Entertainment, the company that ultimately had control over Make It Work. He was also a Hellion, which meant Danny had a connection to him. If anyone could free Danny and Scott, it was Sol.

Sol agreed to meet Danny at the club that night, so Danny headed over there after work and waited for Sol to show up. Sol was a dressy kind of guy with a fussy goatee and a wicked streak a mile wide. He was a legacy member whose father had tried to murder him right there in the Hellion Club, only to die of a heart attack. There were rumors, of course, but no one could pin anything on Sol and no one wanted to either.

Sol got them both drinks and grimaced at the show up on the stage. “You mind if we head into the library? The music in here is giving me a headache.”

“Not a problem for me.” The music didn’t bother him, at least not any more than any other dance music did. Watching omegas writhe around wearing almost nothing while he had to keep his hands to himself, on the other hand, might well kill him.

They sat down in the library, a much quieter room, and exchanged small talk. Sol’s marriage was going well; his son and step-daughter were getting along well and his new baby was a delightful little boy. “I never thought I’d be where I am now,” he said, “but I’m glad I am. What about you? I hear you tied the knot a little while ago.”

“Yeah, about a month. That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you.” Danny tugged at his collar. “It turns out that Scott just auditioned for the show to give moral support to his friend, who did want to get married. Scott is an assault survivor, which he disclosed on his audition form, and he didn’t have any interest in getting married.”

Sol grimaced. “Which, I suppose, he also disclosed. And which is probably why Amos chose him. He was thinking, ‘Oooh, goody, conflict and drama!’”

“Most likely. Here’s the thing. I don’t pretend to know what went on for Scott. I do know that I’m probably not the guy to fix it for him, you know? I’m a tech guy, I’m not a shrink. Is there any way to dissolve this whole thing before it goes any further?”

Sol narrowed his eyes at Danny. “You know, I thought better of you. You want to ditch an omega because of his past trauma?”

Danny let out a little growl. “No. No, it’s not like that. I mean it was at first. I thought he was just pouting because he didn’t want to get married, but it’s more than that. He doesn’t feel safe. And maybe he shouldn’t have auditioned for the show, because it was always a possibility, but that’s neither here nor there. It can’t be good for Scott to be in a situation like this, to be forced to live with some strange guy under circumstances like this.

“Would I rather be married to someone who wants to be with me? Yeah, of course. But that’s not why I asked you here. I asked you here because I am worried about Scott.”

Sol licked his lips. “Okay. I believe you. Unfortunately, those contracts are pretty much ironclad. I should know. I wrote them myself.”

“Well thanks for that.” Danny slumped in his chair.

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning for an event where someone who didn’t want to win would enter a competition. But honestly, I think we can still find a way forward. Do you know how your husband’s case was adjudicated? Or if it was?”

“No.” Danny bit his lip. “At first I was kind of shocked, so I didn’t say anything. And then I didn’t want to trigger him or anything. It probably comes off as callous. Hell, I know I’m coming off callous and I don’t care. I’d rather he think I’m a stuck up ass than start a flashback or something, you know? I’m not great at expressing emotional crap anyway, and I’m more concerned with doing the right thing than making myself look like a good guy.”

Sol raised his eyebrows a little. “Huh. You know, I’ve seen the dailies. I’ll be the first to say you’re definitely not all that concerned with making yourself look like the good guy here - but all things considered, guys with backgrounds like ours aren’t always adept at navigating relationships and emotional territory. We like things we can measure. We like goals and results, right?

“I don’t really know how to help, exactly. Alex might be a better person to talk to. He works with abuse survivors all the time. We’re all in therapy, the whole family, after my ex tried to kill Alex. I can recommend a good therapist if he wants, but he might want to talk to a good attorney as well.”

“A lawyer? I thought you said the contract was ironclad?”

“Oh, it is. Believe me.” Sol gave a thin little smile. “But if someone’s going to be able to get justice for what was done to your husband, it would be Ty Cunningham.” Sol reached into an inner jacket pocket and fished out two business cards. One belonged to a therapist, and Danny didn’t pay much attention to it. The other belonged to Ty Cunningham, who was a law partner.

Danny held the card in his hand. “I’ve certainly heard of this guy.”

“I’m sure you have. He’s hot stuff. Going against him in court is like having all of your fingers broken with a very heavy mallet, one inch at a time. Having him on your side in court is like having the entire heavenly host going to bat for you. Trust me - he did it for me.” Sol smirked. “It wasn’t cheap, but he was worth every penny. And he does have a tendency to take on abuse cases pro bono.”

Danny licked his lips. “Scott doesn’t need pro bono work. He’s my husband, and I’ve got plenty of money. But I’ll talk to him, if I can coax him out of his room.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s been a challenging month.” Danny put the card in his pocket. “Thanks for talking to me, Sol. It’s not the answers I came in here looking for, but it’s a way to help Scott. That’s what I really needed.”

“That’s what we’re all here for.” Sol grinned and shook Danny’s hand. “Keep me in the loop, and I’ll try to rein Amos in a little bit. I know he can be effusive.”

“Thanks,” Danny said again, and grinned.

He felt lighter than he had all month.