Page 71 of The Rogues

“So, just so we’re clear,” Cyrus says, commanding the attention in the room once more. “You’re saying that you want us to court you? Officially?”

My mouth goes dry, and I give the meekest nod of the century.

He shakes his head firmly. “No, baby. You have to use your words. Please tell us what you want, and we will give it to you.”

I can’t help the dark flush that takes over my cheeks from being put on the spot, but I don’t hate it either. I feel lucky that all of their eyes are on me, that they are waiting for my answer intently, graciously. My chest rises and falls with the weight of it, their attention causing my skin to sweat.

I swallow roughly before saying, “I want you to court me.”

There’s a circle of groans that the guys try to stifle as their alphas are let out of their cages, their scents pouring out from the soft declaration.

“Okay, well, first business of courting! What movie snacks do you want?” Jamie asks, gesturing to the delivery app on his phone.

“And what movie do you want to watch? Are you still okay with the thriller?” Malaki asks from the corner, the remote in hand.

“And do you want dessert? I heard the white chocolate strawberries from around here are the best in the state,” Lennon adds.

“What’s your favorite flower?” Remi asks in my ear.

When I look at Cyrus, he is grinning at all of us, his entire demeanor changed from the responsible prime to a proud one. He smirks at me, his face conveying everything without words.

Get used to it, Josie. We’re going to spoil you.

I can’t contain the smile that overtakes my face. My omega and I are in for one hell of a time.

TWENTY-THREE

VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA

The Canadian leg of the tour is usually more chill than the rest. The residents are calmer, the concerts are less high energy and more intimate, but that’s not the case for tonight. The arena is packed, and we can hear the audience chanting from our dressing rooms, the new unique sound echoing around us.

“Vi-cious Ro-gues! Vi-cious Ro-gues!”

Cleo can’t stand it, but it makes me smile. Our fans united to make both headliners feel special despite the qualms between us. It’s kind of brilliant.

The guys are about to go on, so I’m on the edge of my seat. I’ve spent more and more time watching the guys perform these past few weeks. I think the girls have noticed my brief absence every show, but they haven’t said anything, probably assuming that I want some alone time before being in front of a screaming crowd.

Granted, that’s something the old Josie would have done. The new Josie likes to ogle her mates in their natural habitat in peace. It’s a new concert ritual I’ve taken up, and it works wonders for my nerves.

I stand to head out, my finger fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as I wonder if this will be the time one of them finally calls me out on my shit, but they don’t. I make it through the door unscathed and make my way to the side of the stage.

My scent matches are already there, waiting to enter the tunnel for their entrance choreo. Someone is adjusting Malaki’s guitar strap, and Lennon is twirling his drumsticks. When they all see me, their faces light up.

“What’s up, Rosewood?” Malaki asks.

I feign innocence, shrugging my shoulders. “Nothing much. Just heard this really great band was about to play and thought, ‘what’s the hype?’ Thought I’d come see it for myself.”

“Brat,” Remi mutters, his lip curved with amusement. His hair looks sexy as ever as it lies upon his shoulders.

Cyrus laughs, obviously in a good mood. He lets his eyes trail over me, fire coursing under my skin from his gaze. “Maybe later we can⁠—”

His words are cut off by a commotion near us, a feminine squeal punctuating the air.

“Hey! Put me down! Do you not know who I am?!” she screams, and Cyrus’s eyes go wide.

The whole band moves and I follow after them, curious about their fast reactions. When we get to a nearby exit, a security guard is there with a woman hanging over his shoulder. She hits him on the back, grunting with frustration, and Cyrus emits a growl from his chest.

“Put her down,” he barks at the security guard. The command grips him so quickly that he nearly throws the girl onto the floor. Cyrus steps forward to help her up and hisses at the man.