Page 46 of The Rogues

During the main course, Malaki’s hand finds its way to my leg, casual and inconspicuous as he trails circles over my bare skin. It’s calloused like my own, our skills marked on our fingertips, and the way his hard skin feathers over mine leaves me in absolute shambles.

I’m paranoid of the effect it’s having on my body, of the outpouring of champagne that the simple touch seems to help eject. Whenever I brace myself enough to look at him, he’s paying attention to his meal, eating with his left hand even though I know he’s right-handed. A small quirk of his lips is the only indication that he knows what his touch is doing to me.

“Japan is going to be a cool show,” Jamie says.

“Yeah,” Cyrus turns to me. “We’ve never been before, but Jamie’s always wanted to go. And Lennon, because of his anime addiction.”

“I don’t have an anime addiction.”

“Ooo! What’s your favorite anime?” Nicola asks, her eyes sparkling. “I’m rewatching Fate/Stay Night right now.”

“Which one?” Lennon asks, fully interested.

“‘Unlimited Blade Works,’ it’s my favorite.”

“That one made me cry,” the drummer confesses unabashedly.

Another hand falls on my opposite leg, and I flinch slightly, my fork pausing near my plate. Cyrus is paying attention to Lennon and Nicola’s conversation, but his hand is firm and steady on my thigh, gripping with just the right amount of pressure. I grit my teeth, searching for every bit of strength in my body so I can stay in control.

Along with Malaki’s slow brushings, it’s almost too much. I find myself melting into both of their touches, my omega falling languid in my chest. She wants to purr, but also begs them to move further up, to touch us in the place we need most…

Both of their hands brush inward, almost harmonizing against my skin, moving in unison. My body tenses, not sure how far I want this to go. I want them to touch me more than anything, but I know I won’t be able to hold it together if they do.

Then a foot touches mine, and my gaze snaps up to Jamie. His hazel eyes pour into mine, a sparkle of mischief shining through as he continues to eat his food like nothing out of the ordinary is happening.

That’s when I realize: Malaki and Cyrus are bonded through Jamie. They can feel each other’s emotions just as easily as they can Jamie’s, and they knew all along what the other one was up to.

Something about that causes fireworks to simmer in my body. These two alphas, working in tandem and adding onto each other’s pleasure, attempting to make me feel the most blissful type of overwhelmed that I’ve ever been. It’s just a tiny taste, but it’s enough. It shows me what things could be like if I open up my heart to them, how they would use each other’s strengths and weaknesses to make everything better for me.

How we would be a pack, not just pawns for our labels to use or rock stars for the public to dog on. We would have something better, something sustainable. We would have each other, in a world where people normally walked alone. We would have something special.

A chair abruptly scoots back as Cleo stands, still looking at her phone as she turns and walks to the bathrooms. My brow arches, wondering if the war inside me was showing on my face. Did she see them? Does she know what was happening underneath the table? She didn’t look at me, but maybe she’s so pissed off that she couldn’t.

“I need to—” I point off in the direction Cleo went. “I need to use the restroom.”

Their hands retreat, and my omega nearly cusses me out in my chest as I stand to follow my friend. I don’t look back as I set off, determined to find out whether or not Cleo was paying attention or if it’s just another paranoid thought in my head.

But then I get to the bathroom and hear Cleo talking loudly on her phone, her tone almost as ferocious as an angry alpha.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. It’s not like Cyrus and I are doing anything. We’re not even sitting beside each other,” she hisses.

Raven’s voice bellows out of the speakerphone, her deep voice laced with irritation. “He’s still your ex, and you’re hanging out with him like it’s no big deal. You’re on tour with him, and you expect me to not have a fucking issue with it?!”

I halt, my hand hovering over the door as I shamefully listen to their conversation. I always assumed Cleo told Raven the truth about the arrangement. Maybe she doesn’t trust her as much as I thought.

“Raven… I promise you that nothing is going on. I can’t say more than that, but you have to trust me.”

“Trust you? You haven’t done anything to deserve any fucking trust. In fact, most of the time it doesn’t even feel like you care. Every boundary I set out, you find some way to walk all over it.”

“Your boundaries aren’t boundaries, they’re just rules you set to keep me in a fucking cage!” Cleo roars. “I mean, seriously? No going out at all? No hanging out with my friends, my bandmates, one on one? Keep a fucking time stamp every time I do leave so you can keep track of exactly where I am at all hours of the fucking day? I mean, seriously? You don’t even want to be my girlfriend, and you’re acting like I’m something you can piss on and claim.”

My stalled hands turn to fists, and if this conversation weren’t happening over the phone, I’d be barging in immediately to put an end to this nonsense.

Raven laughs darkly. “Because that’s all you’re good for, aren’t you? Poor little Cleo, what a miserable existence it is to be a star. You only know how to complain about things and not how to appreciate what life has gifted to you. It’s a fucking waste, honestly. I’m a much better singer than you and you don’t see me complaining about being second place.”

Isn’t that what she is doing, though? I think.

“Fuck you, Raven,” Cleo says softly, her voice devoid of any previous anger or fight. When I open the door to finally put an end to this, there’s a click, and she is standing there, her finger over her phone from where she hung up. She’s frozen in place for a moment before looking at me, her eyes blank.