Page 52 of The Rogues

I pull her into me, her lips parting in a soft gasp as we close our arms around each other. I pull in that beautiful, effervescent scent as my body releases every anxious thought from moments ago.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I say, still holding her close. “You had stuff going on, and we all respected that. Don’t feel bad for doing what you thought was right.”

She shakes her head against me. “I don’t deserve you. I should have realized what I was possibly giving up.”

“We are the ones that don’t deserve you, Omega. We’re not sure how we got so lucky, but it’s true.”

When we pull back, her synthetic pink hair flies in the wind, but her eyes trail over my face down to my lips. She decides something then, and I only have a second to figure out what before she closes the space between us and puts her lips over mine.

The kiss takes me by surprise, but I fall into it like it’s second nature without a moment’s hesitation. Her lips are soft and taste of lychee mojitos and arcade appetizers. I hum against her, unable to process that this is real life, that my scent match is here, clutching my jacket lapels and pulling me closer to deepen it. My chest ramps up in a purr once more, but this time, she can feel it. She gives a satisfied sound as she furrows into me deeper, trying to feel the vibrations as much as she possibly can.

We pull away and everything is just as glorious. Her lips are red, her eyes soft. There is no regret reflecting at me, just relieved happiness shining on her face.

“Fuck,” I say just as the car pulls up.

The ride back to the hotel is comfortable. She lets me hold her close, seatbelts be damned, and uses my oversized coat as a temporary nest as she nuzzles her way in. There are soft words exchanged, but we’re mainly quiet, awaiting the inevitable departure. When we get to the hotel, she lets go of my hand but still walks close enough to touch me all the way until we get to our shared floor.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and hand it to her, one last hurrah. She blinks at it and grins. “Are you asking for my number?”

My cheeks flush. “Only if your answer is yes.”

She laughs at my attempted save and then takes my phone, her fingers working over the screen. I watch in rapt fascination, and then she’s handing it back.

“Is it okay—” I pause, my mouth suddenly dry. “Is it okay if I give Jamie your number, too?”

To my surprise, she grins even wider. “Of course. Tell him I’m looking forward to it.”

Even after she walks away, I can’t bring myself to move. I’m stuck in place, happiness shooting through me like fireworks. There’s a new feeling coursing through the air, a new obsession curling under my bones.

And it’s all because of Josie Rosewood.

SEVENTEEN

SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH

I feel like I’ve been left shattered after my date with Malaki.

Everything that I tried holding inside is now spilling out, flowing onto the rough, cheap carpet beneath my feet. With all of these emotions, I’ve dived into writing more and more in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but it’s easier said than done. Nothing can stop this outflow anymore, nothing but surrendering to the inevitable and letting my omega have her heart’s desire.

My desire, I think. Because if I’m going to finally open myself up to this venture, I need to be honest with myself. My omega may be a dog in heat on hind legs, but I’m just as feral. She feels what I do, just without shame or guilt. I was a fool to think I could curb her hunger for them, because it is the same as mine. Our heart beats for this pack, in every single way, and I knew sooner or later, something would happen to completely throw my resolve into the garbage. My fight against this, against my scent matches, was only ever going to lead one way.

I’m starting to realize that every member is almost tailor-made for each distinctive side of me. They all have something that I adore, something that speaks to the deepest innards of my being. Remi, with his reserved but confident attitude; Lennon, who is full of life and positivity; Malaki, with his steady but playful demeanor; Jamie, whose smile is full of gentle sunshine.

And Cyrus, who holds a deep weight of expectation on his steeled shoulders, expectation that I remember feeling throughout my childhood. There’s a darkness hiding in him that I want to pry out, to smooth its edges.

I wish I could see every concealed crevice that he hides behind in that mastered facade. I bet there’s so much beauty to discover there.

Never yours, like you are too, minds twisting of bruising blue.

A second choice, shone no poise, by a person you never once knew.

I pull the pen to my lips, biting absentmindedly as I try to work my way through this line that is troubling me. When my phone rings, I thank the universe for the opportunity of avoidance as a picture of Lark and me from one of our first festival gigs shines on my screen.

“Hey. Why’d you call me? You’re like twenty feet away,” I ask, thinking about her room that’s right beside mine.

“I’m actually downstairs. I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner at the hotel restaurant. I heard it’s good.”

“That sounds good. I need a break anyway.”