Page 93 of The Rogues

“Ethan’s bandmate hooked up with the receptionist,” he confesses.

A laugh bubbles out of me, and Malaki joins me in my amusement.

“It’s not a glamorous explanation,” Jamie chuckles. “But I made it right after we met. I just thought… this would be something you’d enjoy.”

“Right after we met?”

“Yeah, like the day after we met at the club,” he says, his cheeks flushing.

My jaw drops. I can’t believe how on the mark he was, even after only knowing each other for a short amount of time. My hand interlaces with his free one.

“You’re amazing.”

He sighs happily, likely picking up on the subtle way my scent has changed. “Let’s get signed in. You can think about what you might want while we wait.”

The receptionist, who I try to greet with a straight face, signs us in and has us sit in the waiting room. I feel the happy jitters start; I always get slightly nervous before getting a tattoo, probably because it still feels like I’m rebelling with every new one that I get. I have so many different images in my mind for what I might want, and I’m excited to see how the artist brings it to life.

Jamie and Malaki tell me about how Cyrus is spending the day with Florence. I ask them how things have been on the bus since she’s tagged along, and they told me that they’re all sleeping on the bed in the back and she has commandeered Cyrus’s bunk completely.

“Does that bother you?” Malaki asks me seriously, and I can’t help but stare at how bright the blue of his hair is under these shop lights. “That another omega is sleeping on the bus?”

“No,” I say instinctually. “I mean, if it were someone other than Cyrus’s sister, probably. But I don’t have any issue with her being around at all.”

That seems to bring some kind of relief to both of their features. “Good. I think we’ve all been silently stressed about it.”

“Aw, no. I would tell you if something was bothering me. But please do the same. If you guys think you’re doing something I don’t like, tell me so I can reassure you.”

Malaki reaches over and clasps a hand over my thigh. “From now on, we will.”

We get called back, and we move to a corridor that forks off in different directions. The guys pause so they can each kiss me on the forehead, and my brows scrunch.

“Are you leaving?” I ask.

Jamie nods. “I’m getting my belly button pierced first while you’re in the chair.”

I pause as an unexpected shiver dances down my spine. “What?”

Malaki grins. “He’s been thinking about it for ages, but now he’s finally ready.” He kisses his cheek as Jamie blushes. “He found this while shopping the other day and wants the piercer to use it.”

He shows me the ring in his hand, still contained by the clear plastic container it came in. The rod curves down vertically, but then at the end a little charm hangs freely, a red rose clinking slightly.

My smile takes over my entire face as I look at the beta. “Jamie.”

If I thought his cheeks were red before, I’m sorely mistaken because his entire face turns a beautiful crimson. “I’m not going to be ashamed. I’ve already told you that I’m obsessed with you.”

I step toward him, our feet touching as I sneak a kiss. He makes a beautiful sound in response, melting into me. When we pull back, his eyes are dilated in a way that makes my knees feel weak.

“Just for the record,” I say. “I’m obsessed with you, too.”

I admire the new artwork in the mirror, away from wandering eyes. The word is small, but it sticks out beautifully to me where I have it hidden beneath the waistband of my skirt. I’m glad I found a place where I could have a few minutes alone to finally look at it, as I had the artist cover it up as soon as it was finished.

The feel of it on my skin makes me feel calm, grounded. Even if none of the guys have put marks on me yet, I still have something that claims me as theirs, through and through, even if no one will be able to see it.

“There you are, we were wondering where you snuck off to—” Malaki says, stopping abruptly when he sees the word planted on my skin. “Holy shit.”

He steps closer and gets down to his knees to look at it. Right there on my hip, the little word “rogues” sits healing on my skin. The saran wrap sits tight around my waist, and Malaki’s finger brushes over the blank skin beside it, completely in awe at the presence of it.

“What the hell? When did you get this, Bubbles?”