Page 33 of The Rogues

“Oh yeah?” I ask, intrigued.

“Yeah, I needed to talk to you about something.”

Usually, that kind of statement would excite me, but this time, there’s something ominous in her tone that makes me pause. Her eyes crinkle with anxiousness, like she doesn’t know how to form the words, and I go on alert.

“What happened?” I ask.

She opens her mouth to speak, but the words get smothered in her throat as she clears it. It’s obviously difficult for her, and that hesitation makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“I—”

“A lychee mojito for the lady,” the bartender announces, placing the drink down. She gives him a small thanks before he takes his leave, and now I’m definitely on the edge of my seat.

She straightens in her seat and looks directly in my eyes. “I think we should take a step back.”

My stomach drops into my ass. “What?”

She exhales a long breath. “I think we should take some time to process this. I’d like you to tell the others that I need to be left alone. For now.”

Everything seems to snag for me, my body freezing at the request. “Okay,” I start, wanting to give her everything she needs while not fully understanding. “How long? For the tour?”

She shakes her head, body almost trembling. “I don’t know.”

My hand itches to touch her, to ease her worry. “Hey,” I say, meeting her eyes. “Everything is okay. I’m sorry that you feel overwhelmed.”

Josie nods, taking in and releasing a few breaths before continuing. “I am just so confused. And then there’s Cleo⁠—”

I repress the growl that wants to escape at her name.

“She opened up to me the other day about how much this tour is getting to her, and it’s been so long since she’s talked to me like that and really shown me her old self, so I just can’t—” She blinks back tears. “I can’t betray her, Cyrus. Being with you guys, that would break her, and I’m already trying so hard to keep her together.”

My mouth goes dry, conflicted by the situation set out in front of me. “You don’t want to pursue things with us because of Cleo?”

She nods. “Things have been rocky for a long time. She’s always angry, always moody. I haven’t seen my best friend in so long, but I got a glimpse of her yesterday. She confided in me. I can’t do anything to risk the foundation between us right now.”

I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that this is the reason why she can’t close the gap between us. Not because it’s “too complicated,” or because we have our careers to think about, or even how we will explain this to our listeners.

It’s all because of freaking Cleo, who is getting her way as per usual.

“And would she do the same for you?” I ask, not hiding the bite in my tone.

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“If Cleo met her scent matches, and you hated them with the heat of a thousand suns, would she give up her connection with them to please you?”

Her lips curve down, and something flashes behind her eyes like that question hit closer to home than I expected it to.

“I thought you’d be happy about this,” she says, her head lowering as the words puncture me right in the chest.

“Why would you think that?” I ask.

“Well… you haven’t seemed too thrilled that I’m your scent match.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t feel like you’re interested in getting to know me.”

I think back to our interactions, my determination not to make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe I pulled back too much, put too many reins on my alpha that she got the wrong impression.

Because there is nothing I want more than my omega, in every possible way. If I think about it too hard, my cock aches, and my body fidgets like an addict waiting for a hit.

I lean closer, my lips a mere touch away from her ear. “I am interested,” I sigh, and her breath hitches. “Since the moment I scented you in that dull fucking hallway, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. You lit it up, made every dusty corner look like heaven in front of me, because you were there.”