“That was a joke.” He hands me a napkin. “I’m Ezra. What’s your name?”
I snatch the napkin from him, my cheeks heating as I dab my chin and clean up the mess. “Victoria.” My middle name comes to mind first. Kady Sinclair is the last person I want to be right now. “I’m Victoria.”
Yes, Victoria.An omega who doesn’t have a controlling father, trying to sell her off like a prized pig and hasn’t agreed to court the biggest knot-heads on campus.
Ezra’s sleeve slides up, revealing his toned forearm and a small mandala tattoo on the inside of his wrist. “Tell me, Victoria.” His voice drops to a low purr. “Why is a gorgeous omega like you drinking alone?”
I roll my eyes. He’ll have to do a lot better than that if he wants to charm me. I’m not just going to drop my panties for any alpha who gives me a compliment—even the ones with dreamy eyes and a voice that makes my legs quake.
“I could ask you the same question,” I reply.
“My pack just moved to town.” Ezra takes a sip of his Manhattan. “Someone said this was the best place to drink awayfrom SVU students. I thought I’d come scope the place out while I check out the neighborhood.”
So he doesn’t think I go to SVU…
I guess I don’t dress like the typical college student. I’m wearing my favorite gray blazer over a tailored black dress that wouldn’t look out of place in a corporate office.
“Do you come here often?” Ezra brings me back to reality.
“Sometimes.” I stir my cocktail with my straw. “Will your omega be joining you soon?”
I mentally kick myself for asking. I shouldn’t care about what his response is or be fishing for his bonded status, but I can’t see any visible bite marks on his skin—not that all alphas choose to have bonding marks. His scent is strong, overpowering even, which is also unusual for a bonded alpha as their scents usually dull after finding their mate. However, again, that isn’t always the case.
“My pack doesn’t have an omega,” he replies. “And I’m not looking.” His eyes sparkle, a hidden suggestion behind them. “Well, at least not for something serious.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Don’t all alphas want an omega?”
“Not every alpha.” His deep stare makes the rest of the room fall away, his pupils dilating as we hold eye contact. “I like my freedom too much.” He shrugs. “Call me selfish, but I can’t imagine my whole universe revolving around another person forever.”
Okay, so maybe this alpha and I have more in common than I first thought. Taking another sip of my drink, my shoulders slacken as I give him my full attention.
“I don’t think that’s selfish at all. Actually, I feel the same way myself.” I sigh. “I don’t understand why people think that alphas and omegas have to bond just because of our designation.”
“Exactly.” He grins broadly. “Although I’m surprised to hear an omega say that.”
“Why?” I narrow my eyes. “Because you think omegas need an alpha to take care of them? We’re not incapable. Some omegas don’t need an alpha at all, you know.”
“You’re not like any other omega I’ve met, Victoria.”
A frisson of electricity courses through me. Thank goodness I’m wearing scent-blocking panties because I’m pretty sure I just perfumed from his words alone.
Ezra clears his throat. “There’s a spare table over there.” He nods at a quiet corner, set away from the rest of the bar. “Do you want to continue our conversation?” He eyeballs the bowl in front of me. “We could share the fries? I’m starving.”
I should head back to Stella House, but the longer I’m around Ezra, the more intrigued I am to learn more. It’s the first time I’ve met an alpha who isn’t interested in bonding, and it’s downright refreshing to have a conversation that doesn’t revolve around bonding or what compromises they’d want me to make to be with them.
“I’ll share my fries with you.” Staying a little longer won’t hurt, right? “On one condition.”
“And what’s that?” He leans in toward me, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his muscled body. “I’ll do anything for curly fries.”
His husky tone and the way his eyes linger a little too long on my lips make my breath catch. I’m sure he’s interested in a lot more than potatoey goodness.
I arch an eyebrow. “Anything?”
I cross my legs, my gaze trailing over his sculpted arms. They’re straining his well-worn, sage linen shirt which looks to be finely made yet practical. His top three buttons are undone, revealing lines of an intricate chest tattoo, making me want to trace them to see the full picture.
“Try me, Victoria.”
“Let’s grab the table.” I spin my head around so fast that I almost whip him in the face with my blonde hair. “The fries are getting cold.”
