1. Ivy

1

IVY

My boots crushed the remnants of autumn leaves as I drew closer to the house. Bob and Mary Russell were moving out and leaving their beloved fish tank behind. Mary had been regaling fellow Starlight Grove townspeople with descriptions of their new custom built-in tank. Long and detailed descriptions of how it would mold to the contours of their house while gesturing in a weirdly sensual manner.

No judgment here.

But if I played my cards right, that old tank was mine.

Bob’s familiar egg-shaped head appeared from behind the moving van and I sped up to catch him.

“Excuse me! I’m so sorry to bother you, but do you have a moment?” I called out in a breathless rush.

“Ms. Winter?” Bob did a double-take. It had been a long time since I’d taught one of his children but the name stuck, just as it had for most of the town. “What are you doing here?”

Come on, Ivy. You can do this. Assert yourself.

“I heard you were leaving your fish tank behind. Could I please have it for my classroom?” I asked politely.

Bob stared at me blankly. “Your classroom?”

“They make great teaching tools. Water chemistry, caretaking, teamwork,” I explained earnestly. I tucked my hair behind my ear, neatening my short brown bob out of habit rather than untidiness. “Not only that, they help create a calming environment so?—”

“Yes, yes, you can take it.” Bob waved an impatient hand.

I did it!

“We have no use for it,” Bob continued, before his chest puffed out. “Did you know the new tank we’re getting is going to be tailor-made to the specifications of our lounge room? We worked with the most fantastic ?—”

I didn’t have the guts to do anything except stand there and listen to him until I had turned into a desiccated husk.

“Thank you!” I finally squeaked. I shuffled sideways through the gap between the moving van and the front gate. “I’m so grateful!”

“Mary will give you a hand!” Bob called after me.

I left the Russells’ old house with my prize in the backseat of my car. Mary had even thrown in the filter, heater and lights for me. Not having to buy them myself was a godsend. I would be able to afford substrate, decorations and test kits straight away.

And fish. I suppose they were an important part of it too.

It was a relief to know I would be able to get this up and running for my fifth graders sooner rather than later. I felt like we had limped our way into December. Budgets tightened, class sizes grew, resources drained.

I did my best with less and less every year.

That’s why I was holding out for the Preston Eberhart Educator Empowerment and Excellence Grant. I’d spent weeks perfecting my proposal. I wanted art supplies for Tanner who drew the most amazing designs in his margins. A robotics kit for Riley who had a fascination for taking things apart to see how they worked. Books written in this century for Mona who had read and re-read every dog-eared paperback in my mini library. No one would make that $2,000 work harder than me.

But until we found out where the money was going, I would have to settle for begging for secondhand fish tanks.

I parked at my usual spot near the elementary wing of Starlight Grove School. I much preferred walking to work, but with the earlier nightfall and unpredictable weather it was safer to drive.

It quickly became apparent that getting the tank from my backseat to my classroom was going to be harder than I’d anticipated.

My omega designation was not usually something that held me back. I accepted that I would need a step ladder to reach things in high places. I took suppressants religiously to stave off my heats. Applying specialist deodorant was part of my morning routine to dampen my natural omega scent.

But as I stood there, staring at the giant glass box, the fat droplets of a chilly December rain began to fall.

Sometimes the idea of having a strong, manly alpha do physical labor for you just made sense.

Gravel crunched behind me. I turned to see Rome Chandrasinghe stepping onto school grounds. SGS’s new music teacher and one hundred percent alpha. Even his big umbrella couldn’t obscure that striking black gaze, warm tan skin and his neatly stubbled jawline.

It was a big cosmic joke and I was the punchline.

You wanted a strong, manly alpha? Here you go! Now make conversation like a regular human while your tongue decides to stop working.

Rome removed his headphones. He liked 90s RnB and lived close to the school as well, two facts that I should not have memorized but had anyway.

“Ivy! What are you doing here on a Saturday?” Rome called out. “Where’s your umbrella? Here, come under mine.”

I don’t know why I found the thought of Rome seeing me so unprepared embarrassing.

“I usually have one on me, I swear!” I promised him. Rome jogged over and held the umbrella out over my head before stepping under it himself. I was immediately enveloped in the sumptuous haze of his mulled wine alpha scent. He was comforting. Complex. Designed to be held close and savored.

Scents were a natural lure between alphas and omegas. But after twelve years of being an omega, I was fairly practiced at not letting it go to my head.

Fairly practiced but not, you know, immune.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling like I was protected by more than just the umbrella.

“Of course,” he said softly.

My own gingerbread scent rose in a spiced, gentle swirl between us. Rome’s tiny gesture of thoughtfulness pleased my omega. I looked up, caught the slight pulse of his pupils expanding and felt my face flush.

Let’s side-step what my body is inconveniently doing, please .

Rome cleared his throat and both our scents receded slightly, the brief designation-fueled interlude forgotten. We were back to what we were supposed to be – colleagues.

“Is Jeff making you work on the weekend?” Rome asked, his heavy brow furrowed.

“No!” Our principal had nothing to do with this and I was a bit self-conscious that I had been caught going the extra mile. “I got hold of a fish tank and I’m putting it in my classroom,” I explained.

“Got hold of…” Rome repeated.

“Not by stealing! I got it legitimately!” I assured him hurriedly.

Rome carded his fingers through his long, cheekbone-grazing strands of hair and side-eyed the tank in my backseat. “I didn’t think you stole it,” he said slowly.

My shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, good.”

“But now I do.”

“Rome!” I was indignant that he even thought I was capable of it.

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Just kidding. Jesus, it’s big. Do you need help with bringing it in?”

“Yes, please,” I said gratefully.

Rome exhaled loudly. “Thank god. If you had said no I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

He pressed the umbrella into my hand and began taking off his coat. His movements were very graceful considering how broad his shoulders were. “Do you mind?” he asked, holding it out to me.

I took his coat from him, my mouth going dry as I fought the urge to press my nose into the wool blend. Rome began to roll up his shirt sleeves and I prayed all the claims the No-NonScent Deodorant ads made were legitimate.

Look at the ground instead of the strip show you’ve unwittingly initiated.

Rome lifted the tank with ease and began to make his way towards the school. I only let myself look at his taut forearms for a very brief moment. “Why are you here on a Saturday?” I asked, holding the umbrella over us both and trying to keep up with his long strides.

“You mean other than saving you a visit to the chiropractor?”

“Yes, that,” I huffed.

“Robbie has the Tri-State Piano Competition coming up and is convinced he’ll bomb,” Rome said, somehow managing to hold the door open for me with his hip like a gentleman.

“Oh he’ll do so well,” I immediately assured him. Robbie O’Hara was a tenth grader and already playing at a pre-collegiate level.

“I agree,” he said, flicking a quick glance my way. “The assembly hall is similar to the space where he’ll be performing on the day. I suggested it to his piano teacher for an extra rehearsal. Hopefully it’ll give him the boost of confidence he needs.”

Rome had replaced the elderly, half-deaf Mr. Peters, who really should’ve retired twelve years ago rather than twelve weeks ago.

Starlight Grove was lucky to have him.

I held my classroom door open and pointed to the spot I had optimistically cleared for the tank already. Rome set it down easily, as if carrying it the entire way had been no effort whatsoever.

“Thank you, Rome,” I told him sincerely. “That was nice of you to do that for Robbie, by the way.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I can be nice.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“It was implied.”

“Was not.”

Smiles played on both our lips.

My eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you still gunning for the Preston Eberhart grant?”

“You mean the PEEEEG?” Rome pronounced it like a long, dachshund-like version of pig.

“I think Preston prefers the Preston Eberhart Educator Empowerment and Excellence Grant.”

Rome was unapologetic. “Lucky he’s not here then and I can keep calling it the PEEEEG,” he said smoothly before his expression flattened somewhat. “But yes. I am. You?”

“Of course.”

“Good. If only the winner was determined by who could remember what the grant was called.”

Was he rooting for me? “That would be convenient,” I said shyly.

Rome took his coat from me and I reluctantly let it slip from my fingers. He made his way past me towards the door and laid his forearm against the frame. His chin pointed towards the tank. “If you need advice on setting that up, feel free to pop in and see James.”

James Chen was a vet, Rome’s longtime partner and from what little I had seen of him around town — the perfect, charming counterpoint to Rome’s darker intensity.

“I don’t want to bother him, I’m sure he’s busy at work,” I said hesitantly.

Not that I was really looking forward to all the extensive fish research I would have to do now.

“Don’t be silly.” Rome pulled out his phone. “The clinic closes early on Saturdays. You can probably catch him as he’s finishing up if you head over now. I’ll check but I’m sure he won’t mind. I’m stuck here anyway so he won’t be in a rush to get home.”

I laughed. “Are you implying that he won’t have anything better to do because he can’t be around you?”

Rome stopped texting abruptly. “Yes,” he finally said.

“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you, Rome?” I teased him lightly.

His answering smile made my chest flutter peculiarly. “You should try it sometime, Ivy.”

A chirp sounded as his phone went off. Rome’s expression brightened seeing the response from his other half.

“He said he’d love to…” Rome paused. “And used every fish-related emoji there is.” His lips pursed with equal parts exasperation and affection.

I don’t know why I suddenly imagined what it would be like to receive texts like that throughout my day to make me smile the way he did.

“Tell him thank you and I’ll see him soon.” I gave my next words some serious thought. “And add a seal emoji.”

Dogs of the sea. Friendly and capable of waving. It would hopefully please someone like James.

“He’ll think I’ve had an aneurysm.”

“I’ll reassure him of your good health.”

Rome sent my reply and pocketed his phone. “You’re a bad influence, Ivy Winter,” he said, his voice like velvet.

It was the first time in my life anyone had called me a bad influence. It was…ill-fitting and a badge of honor at the same time. I met his dark eyes and swallowed loudly.

There it was again. His rich, enticing alpha scent.

I stared at the bare brown skin above his collar and pictured running my nose along it and breathing him in.

For a brief, mortifying second I wondered what it would be like to be his pack’s omega.

Don’t bother. It’s not like anyone ever shows interest.

You’re just Ms. Winter. Wrangler of children, and — I glanced down at my shapeless woolen sweater — sexless caterpillar.

The razor of negative thought sliced along a well-practiced path.

My palms smoothed down my pants. “I better go. Don’t want to keep him waiting,” I said perfunctorily.

“Of course. I’m sure Robbie’s wondering where I am too,” Rome said with a quick glance at his watch.

I watched him leave my classroom, and waited until I was sure his scent had dissipated from the doorway before I made my exit.