Page 38 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

It’s definitely Sophie bothering him, then. I rarely see Finn judge anyone this fast, not without getting to know them first.

“It’s more than that.” I shake my head. “I’ve met cold people before, calculating ones. This is different, like whatever makes someone human has been carved out of her.”

The words hang in the air. The fire pops, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney.

“Well,” Ethan says after a moment, “let’s hope she uses that to find our mole quickly.”

“Speaking of quickly.” Finn straightens up, some of his usual energy returning. “How long do you think this investigation is going to take? Days? Weeks?”

“However long it takes,” I say.

Finn groans. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer I have.”

“Fine.” He tosses his phone onto the cushion beside him. “In that case, I vote we go out Friday night. Blow off some steam.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Go out where?”

“You know where.” Finn grins, but there’s something brittle underneath it. “Our usual place. Good music, good drinks, and even better company.”

We all know which place Finn means. The club downtown where wealthy alphas go to meet omegas and betas looking for a good time, no strings attached and no expectations.

We used to go more often when we were younger. These days we only go once a month, maybe less. And lately...

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m not really in the mood.”

“Not in the mood?” Finn stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Since when are you not in the mood?”

Since every face started blending into the next and I realized that no matter how many beautiful women I take to bed, I still wake up the next morning feeling exactly the same.

Empty.

I don’t say any of that. Instead, I just shrug. “It’s been a long week. I’d rather stay in.”

“What about Saturday?” Ethan offers. “We could go after dinner at my mother’s.”

Finn perks up. “Now that’s an idea. Good food, then good⁠—”

“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Saturday dinner. That’s this week?”

“I told you last week.” Ethan’s mouth twitches with amusement. “And the week before that. And the week before that.”

“I know, I just...” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I forgot. Things have been hectic.”

“She’s making her braciole,” Ethan adds, and despite myself, my mouth waters. Rosa Brooks makes the best braised beef I’ve ever tasted. The woman could probably charge five hundred dollars a plate at any restaurant in the city, but instead she insists on cooking for us herself every few weeks. Won’t hear of us bringing anything but wine.

“Fine,” I say. “Saturday dinner. But I’m still not sure about going out after.”

“Come on, Max.” Finn leans forward, his blue eyes bright with something that might be desperation. “It would be good for all of us. Just a few hours. Let off some steam.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer. “We could all use a distraction right now.”

A distraction. From what, exactly?

I study him for a long moment. He’s reaching for any excuse to get out of his own head. And maybe, with everything that’s going on, it might not be such a bad idea.

“Come on,” he tries again. “It’s just one night out. When’s the last time we did something just for fun?”

I glance at Ethan, who shrugs. “It might be nice. Clear our heads before we dive deeper into this mess.”