Tater winks at me. “Maybe you should.”
“Live life on the edge.”
He bobs his head. “Yeah, right on the edge of a cliff.”
I salute him and set my drink down, moving to the table to pay my bill.
“Where are you going?” Glenn asks when he sees me pull out my credit card and wave at the server.
I blink at him, seeing how Leona leans into him. She likes him. It’s so fucking obvious. He says they’re friends, but I know she wants more.
And maybe he should go for it.
Maybe she’ll treat him better than I did.
“I’m off to the Pit Stop.”
Glenn freezes, his fists curling against the table.
“And why the fuck would you do that?”
I blush and shrug. “Just to see it. It’s a staple here in town, apparently. One of the seven wonders of Wolverston.”
The server comes up, and I hand her my card, deciding at the last minute to pay for the entire table. If Leona can win them over with beers, I can win them over with food.
Fisher places his arm around me and squeezes. “Thanks, Boss. You’re the best.”
I feel my cheeks flush and know that Glenn is intently watching me. There’s a twitch in his eye, and I see the way his gaze narrows on where Fisher has flung his arm.
Well, that’s what happens when you ignore an omega. They find another alpha. They have to.
Well, I don’t. Not really, but I want one anyway.
And I just may find one tonight.
An alpha dick in a hole.
I’m feeling defiant and brave.
I sign the slip of paper the server hands me, grab my credit card, and stalk out into the night. I’m not drunk, but the alcohol has given me courage.
Courage to pull down my pants, stick my ass against a dirty wall, and beg it to be fucked.
Or at least attempt it.
It won’t feel as good as Glenn, but again, losing him was my fault. I deserve whatever happens with him and Leona. And I know that’s inevitable. It was as clear as the fucking moon tonight that she wants him.
The cool air is a balm to my overheated skin, and I glance over at Pit Stop with its flickering sign and the motorcycles outside. I bet the closer I get, the more alpha it will smell.
I wonder if they’ll smell me.
I wonder if they’ll line up and take turns.
A voice to my right has my head turning toward an alpha eyeing me from the shadows. Smoke billows up and swirls around my face. I bat it away, wrinkling my nose at the scent.
“Where are you going on your own, little omega, when you smell like that?”
My lips turn down as I make out the glowing red eyes and long, dark hair. I know him from years ago; he’s part of the Crimson Howlers’ pack, where Attie lives now as their shaman.
