“I’m sorry, I’m busy.” Crawford’s gaze lingered on Adrian’s face, watching as his disappointment manifested. “Thanks for theoffer.”
“Oh.” Adrian’s lips twisted into a pout. “Are you sure, Crawford? I’m on birth control, just not heat suppressant. It could be a lotoffun.”
“No.” Crawford remained firm. He lounged against his booth, turning his attention away from Adrian. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, Adrian. There are plenty of men and women here who’d love to help you through your heat,I’msure.”
The seat cushion of the booth shifted as Adrian stood. “Okay. Sorry tobotheryou.”
“No, you’re not a bother. You just didn’t know. There’s nothing wrongwiththat.”
Adrian didn’t reply. In the corner of his eye, Crawford watched as he distanced himself from the booth and slipped down the stairs to the dance floor. The alphas hovering on the peripheries followed at a distance, each of them hungry for a chance at taking Adrian home. Crawford was leftalone.
He could head to the dance floor as Adrian had done—Crawford wasn’t old or prudish enough to deny himself a good time—but the company had to be right, and tonight he was already engaged. Owen likely wouldn’t show up at all, but Crawford clung to the hope that hewould.
To see that collar around his neck, the silver tag glinting in the dim clublights…
Crawford crossed an ankle over his thigh and let out a low, even breath from betweenhislips.
Owen would beradiant.
“On the house, Mr. Daniels,” one of the waitresses chirped as she set a whiskey, neat, before him. The bar was across the room, and one of the barmaids, Clarissa, was sweet on him. Crawford looked toward the bar to find her smiling in his direction. She lifted a hand to wave, and he returned thegesture.
“Thank you, and make sure you thankClarissa,too.”
“Ofcourse.”
Crawford lifted the glass to his lips and was about to drink when the sound of footsteps made him reconsider. The distant throbbing of the bass from the dance floor below wasn’t enough to mask the click of a hard sole meeting the woodfloor.
The footsteps came to a stop. Crawford set the glass upon the table and bit back asmile.
Standing at the foot of the booth was Owen Ellis, the blond omega he’d been aching for. He was dressed in a buttoned down blue Oxford shirt and a pair of gray slacks, but behind the top button Crawford saw the leather collar around his neck. It looked like Owen was trying tohideit.
“Hi,” Owen mumbled, almost ashamed. “I, um, they told me that you’d be here. The front desk,Imean.”
“The front desk was right,” Crawford observed. He’d never wanted to smirk as badly as he did then, but he held it back. For as composed and professional as Owen painted himself, beneath was a timid, frightened creature trying to figure out what he was doing in a placelikethis.
Crawford already knew. If Owen was willing to listen, he’d be enlightened soonenough.
“Sit,” Crawford insisted. “There’s more than enough room. Are you interested in adrink?”
“Nothing alcoholic.” Owen sat beside him, keeping a respectful amount of space between their thighs. Crawford refused to push him foranythingmore.
Notyet.
“Water?”
“Of course.” Crawford gestured to the bar, knowing Clarissa was watching their table closely. In seconds, she’d deployed one of her waitresses, and Crawford placed the order. The waitress left, and Owen shifted his weightuncomfortably.
“I’ve never been in a place like this before,” Owen admitted after the waitress left. “I never even gave much thought to their existence. I suppose in a city like Aurora, it’s to be expected, but… I guess it never occurredtome.”
“There is plenty about the world we choose to ignore,” Crawford replied. “Sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of ignorance. I try to keep myself open to all avenues and possibilities until I know for sure they’re not a good fit for who I am as aperson.”
“And what kind of a person is that?” Owen asked. He fidgeted with his hands beneath thetable.
Crawford allowed himself a moment of introspection, then shook his head. “I can’t tell you. That person changes day to day, experience to experience. The more I open myself to the world, the more I find out who Ireallyam.”
“Well, I mean…” Owen refused to look at him directly. “You know some things about yourself. You know that you’re the kind of guy who’d send a man he’s barely acquainted witha,um…”
“A collar,” Crawford said, unashamed of the word. “I guess, if that facet of who I am concerns you, that I can put your fears to rest. I am simply a man who knows what he wants, and who isn’t afraid togetit.”
