He arches an eyebrow. “Nova? What about him?”
My shoulders come up in a casual shrug. “I don’t know. Is he a good guy?”
Ciro blinks at me for a moment, then the corner of his lip turns up. “You’re trying to bang him.”
My mouth snaps open, and then I scoff in a way that’s entirely unnatural. “What?Me?No, that’s not what I?—”
“Hey.” He puts his hands up in fake surrender. “I get it, he’s hot. And from his reputation, he’s good, too. I completely understand it.”
“Reputation?” I ask.
“Well, his name is Nova for a reason.” When he realizes that I don’t get it, he chuckles. “Like…Casanova.”
Oh.“He sleeps around a lot?”
Ciro titters. “That’s an understatement. Bellamy isn’t any better, either. The only person in that band now—since Uriah doesn’t count—that has a normal sex life is Phineas.”
“The drummer?” I guess.
“Indeed. Sweet kid. But if you’re looking for something without any strings attached, Nova is your guy. And—” He turns to look at the stage, and I see why when I look as well. Nova is peering out over the crowd, apparently having found me in the midst. “It seems like he might like that, too.”
We get our drinks and make our way back to our friends. Igive Thatcher the Blue Moon I ordered, and his surprised expression bleeds with the tiniest bit of adoration, hitting me right in the cavity in my chest. I give Kit the other spritz, and we continue to dance as I try to work through how I could possibly sleep with someone that isn’t my scent match in order to alleviate this ache.
Now, when I look at Nova’s and my conversation, it seems reasonable that he took the opportunity to get to know me and buy me a drink. I’m a friend of his bandmate, a prime opportunity. His flirty nature feels more real to me now.
It’s an opportune moment for me, too. I need a playboy to help me with my issue, and I just happen to have one right here in front of me on a silver platter.
And it’s obvious that his sights are set on me.
That could work to my advantage, I realize. His apple scent isn’t the one I want, isn’t the one my omega craves, but I think it’ll have to do for now. I can’t risk getting set off into a full-blown heat, and my fear is telling me that if any of my scent matches were to help me, it would do exactly that.
My plan seems to be more plausible now that I know Nova is used to conquests. I hope he doesn’t mind if I have one of my own.
So, I try to catch eyes with the Casanova once more. He is immediately ensnared in my trap, meeting my eyes and peering right into my guilty soul. The invitation is there, no matter how wrong it feels. We both have an itch we need to get rid of, and I’m sure he can help me do just that.
THIRTY-THREE
After the gig, we find our way to some random house party, which, apparently, is a tradition for the band. The group disperses in different directions after we get our drinks, and I end up on the dance floor with my scent match. He lets me lead because he feels incredibly awkward in his body most of the time, and it’s adorable trying to get him to let loose when the more sensual songs come on. My prime is not a voyeur, but I’m starting to think my other alpha might be when I catch his eyes on us. He looks happy. Whether that’s from the heavily poured drink in his hand or from watching us in the crowd, I can’t be too sure, but I do think I see something rather hard in his pocket, so there’s that.
I lose them after a while and then go to seek out another drink while trying to find Opal in the crowd. She was very standoffish during the gig earlier and kept disappearing between numbers. It leaves me feeling a little bit off kilter, and all I really want to do is find the omega and see how she is doing.
I feel closer to her every day. There’s not a moment thatgoes by that I don’t want to see her or ask her how she’s doing, especially now that I know what she’s been hiding. I feel so hyperaware of her anytime she enters a room. I’ve never felt this strongly about something, knowing that things are on a tumultuous trajectory for her.
Even though Opal seems to be absent, I finally find our friend group, all huddled together, drinking and laughing. When I get closer to them, their conversation makes its way to my ears.
“Oh, that’s not a good idea,” Uriah comments, looking somewhere in the crowd.
Rory lets out a breath. “We should probably go get her.”
Jett laughs. “What? Why? She looks like she’s having a good time with him.”
“Because he could break her heart,” Uriah replies so nonchalantly that I’m taken aback.
“Who could break whose heart?” I ask, making my presence known.
They all turn to me as Stacia answers, “Nova. He’s a?—”
“He’s a slut,” Uriah cuts in. “Sorry, baby, but you were going to make it seem innocent and it’s not. He’s out of control, and your friend shouldn’t get involved with him.”
