“Right this way, Miss Americana.”
I follow Simon to the dance floor, and he settles his hand on my waist. I slide my hands around his neck and raise an eyebrow at him.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I say, reality striking me. “Youlikepissing him off.”
Simon laughs, his smile contagious. “Guilty. But you have to admit he makes it so easy.”
It’s my turn to laugh as Simon sways us back and forth to some classical rendition ofDancing On My Own.
“He’s staring at you, you know,” Simon says with a grin. “Can’t take his eyes off you.”
I can’t help the blush in my cheeks as I glance to my side, noticing Simon is right. But I also notice Charlie is staring at us. No…
Notus.
JustSimon.
And the way he is staring at him is certainly full of longing.
“Oh!” I nearly step on Simon as I realize all at once his words prior to their arrival. His reluctance to touch me or engage me during my heat.
Simon isn’t interested in omegas. He’s interested in Charlie.
“He’s staring at you, too, you know.”
Simon sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, well, Luke is easily baited?—”
“Not Luke,” I say, shaking my head. “Charlie.”
The momentary tense of his body, the flash of surprise in his eyes is all the confirmation I need.
“Do not say such a thing soloudly,” he whispers. “My pack is here.”
Reality hits me as I look to my side, noting Charlie is walking towards the opposite side of the room.
“Your pack would not understand,” I mutter.
“No, they would not,” Simon says carefully.
“Does…” I swallow harshly. “Does heknow? Charlie, I mean. Does he know you?—”
The guilt and sadness lacing Simon’s eyes are his answer.
“It would make no difference.”
“Of course it would,” I whisper. “It would make a difference tohim.”
Simon spins me around before giving me a soft smile.
“Pot, meet Kettle,” he says softly.
“No, this is not… I am… it is not the same,” I bite.
“Says the woman dancing with me to make the alpha obsessed with herjealous.”
I huff in defense.
“I am not?—”
