I’m somehow more confused than ever, but then Kendall points into the crowd. “He’s hitting on Opal.”
My eyes go in the same direction, but this place is so swamped that it takes me a second to pick them out. When I finally spot him in the crowd, my eyes bulge out of my head.
“Oh, wow,” I whisper. I see how he’s capable of being a playboy. The alpha is tall, practically towering over Opal’s petite frame, and his hair is a decadent chocolate brown. His fingers keep combing through it, somehow making it lie perfectly. If I were a single man, I’d consider it catnip, andpaired with that sinful smile, I definitely would have been one of his victims.
“Close your mouth before your alpha sees.” I turn toward the whisper and see a very amused Rory leaning into my space. “It’s a shame. He’s a good guy, too. Very charming. But he’s a philophobe. I feel bad for whoever he scent matches with in the future.”
I turn and see the scene before me in a new light. Opal’s smile is bright, her attention solely on the alpha next to her. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s gnawing on her lip like she’s imagining taking a bite out of him. I feel a little green monster rear its ugly head in my chest. “I should probably go get her, huh?”
Rory smiles at me, almost knowing. “I’d say so, yeah.”
But before I can march over there quietly, my pack mates join our group, laughing with each other until they look in the direction we’re all staring. I’ve never seen their faces fall so fast, Sam with quiet tension and Thatcher with booming dominance.
“What’s going on over there?” Thatcher growls.
“The guitar player is hitting on our too-good-for-this-world friend,” Stacia says while Ciro laughs.
Sam doesn’t say anything, but his eyes stay locked on the interaction. I notice the tight hold he has on his cup and the slight tensing of his jaw.
It might be taboo, but excitement fills me at this display of jealousy. Their intense reactions to our roommate being with another alpha causes the omega in my chest to buzz with anticipation. It’s just another sign that things are actually rather simple when it comes to our inner voices. Opal is important to us, and whether they want to admit it or not, their beasts have already made up their minds.
I should probably thank this mystery man for bringingthese emotions out of my alphas. Who knew how long it would have taken them to react this way without an external source to provoke it?
I’m not the only one who notices. All of their fraternity members are eyeing their strange reactions, confused by the wrath they see on their faces. When they look at me to gauge my reaction, I give them a beaming smile in return, which probably confuses them further, but it causes me quite a bit of amusement to see their faces twist with bewilderment. I’m sure they expect me to be wary or jealous, but I feel like I’m living my best damn life right now.
My scent match’s jaw clenches as he watches our curly-haired roommate with the tall guitar player, his arm wrapped around her and whispering something in her ear. A second later, Nova places his hand on her bicep, and the final plug is pulled on his composure. It snaps harshly, and he marches over to them, completely unaware that we can all see the aggression boiling beneath his calm exterior.
“Sam—” Everett says, but he continues forward with Thatcher by his side.
“Oh shit,” Jett whispers just before Kendall and Ciro snicker together like chaos demons.
“Alright, that’s our cue,” Atlas says as he follows behind him, allowing the rest of us to crowd our way over to the situation at hand. It’s probably hilarious, seeing such a big group move as one toward a seemingly harmless situation.
But the closer we get, the more I see the signs that something’s wrong. Opal is smiling, but there’s a sparkle in her eye that wasn’t there earlier. The way she’s letting this stranger touch her makes my stomach churn, and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I’m not sure if Sam and Thatcher’s instincts are going haywire, too, or if I’m just witnessing normal alphajealousy roaring off them, but I can feel something in the air around Opal, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
Nova sees us approach, carefree as a bird. His scent is spicy and warm like baked apples. “Can I help you?”
Opal looks at us, but she seems far away, like she can’t fully read the emotions coursing through the group. “My friends!”
Sam gives her a tight smile, and Uriah steps forward. “Alright, Nova. Time’s up,” he says, trying to diffuse the tension before it’s even started.
“I think the lady gets to decide that,” Nova says, but he at least has the decency to pull his arms back after seeing how serious his bandmate is.
“I don’t think she can make those decisions right now,” Thatcher says from the side, anger obvious in his tone.
Nova gives him an observant look before Uriah interjects, “You can have any girl you want in this room, but not my omega’s friend. You know the limits I set, dude.”
His smile is deviously attractive. “Oh, come on, can you blame me? You know redheads are my type.”
“You don’t have a type,” Uriah tries to say in a joking tone, but he’s so stoic, it comes off as a dig.
While they continue to go back and forth, I gently pull Opal over to my side, and she beams when she realizes who is touching her.
“Oh my gosh,Kit,” she says, leaning close enough to whisper in my ear. “He smells like spiced apples.”
I chuckle, realizing that my lovely omega might be a little bit intoxicated. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods with a pout on her lip. “But it’s not as good as green apples, no matter how much I pretend.”
