“Yeah.” So I do, wrapping an arm around her and splaying my palm against her back, my thumb lazily rubbing against her spine and it feels nice.
It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Maisie, I’m almost positive it would feel good touching anyone at this point. It’s been so long, too long really. I never really considered how much I missed affection until this moment.
Maisie’s hands glide down my arm, her one finger stopping as she points at my tattoo.
“It’s really nicely done,” she says, tracing the sword with her fingertip.
“Thank you. Got it when I turned twenty-one.”
“Does it symbolize anything in particular?"
“My da was super into genealogy and traced our ancestors to the Battle of Bannockburn. He found an old drawing of a few swords likely held by my ancestors, and this one was always my favorite.”
“And this one?” she asks, dragging her finger up to the stag on my forearm. It takes everything in me to not shiver against her skin touching mine.
“It represents the spirit of the Highlands. Graham and I got matching ones together.”
“They suit you, plus the women on your socials seem really into them,” she says and it hits me that she’s teasing me.
My cheeks ache with a smile as I shake my head. “You know your comment got over a hundred likes, by the way?”
“Stop, really? You can’t deny that you didn’t deserve it.”
“I deserve it and worse. I owe you an apology. Here you are helping me out when my ex walks into a bar and I’ve been a right arsehole to you the moment you arrived. So, I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal, it’s me working through my shit.”
The left side of her mouth tilts up, and I realize I’ve been rubbing her back this whole time I’ve been apologizing.
“I forgive you,” she says softly.
“They left,” Birdie announces, and ever so slowly, Maisie removes herself from my arms and goes back to her stool. I don’t feel the loss of Fiona having left the bar, but I do feel the grief of no longer having Maisie touching me.
Maybe there’s something about this Omega after all? There’s still no real reason to get to know her beyond this sort of friendship, not if it has no potential to be serious.
I might be over Fiona, but heartbreak has a way of leaving this aching wound in your chest that feels like it’s impossible to get over. Greer and Lain might be alright with whatever agreement they have in place, but I just can’t do it.
No matter if Maisie is prettier than I ever realized, even if she’s kinder than I ever gave her credit for, even if her touch was the most alive I’ve felt in God knows how long. Plus, even if Maisie forgave me for how I’ve treated her, there’s no way she would ever be interested in me beyond this truce.
It’s silly to even consider it, really. She said the kiss meant nothing, and it didn’t. Potential heartbreak isn’t even a consideration because there’s not a chance in hell it would ever happen.
As much as I try to mark the night off as a fluke, as her giving me a pitying helping hand, the taste of wine lingers on my tongue and my fingertips long to touch her again.
Fuck.
26
maisie
“So…arewe going to talk about the whole you kissing the Alpha you don’t like and you two looking pretty comfortable while doing it?” Birdie asks as she tucks in beside me.
Since we booked so late, all the small hotel had was a room with one bed. My sister and I are sharing a bed for the first time in a decade. Worst part is it’s a European hotel, which means it’s a queen instead of a king.
“Or we could talk about how close you seem to be getting to Graham.”
Birdie snuggles against her pillow, both of us facing each other.
“The other day you asked me how do you stop yourself from catching feelings, and the problem is I don’t know. I’ve always been someone who falls in and out of love pretty quickly. Part of me is scared that I’m following the same pattern, but there’s this other part of me that can’t help but to feel like they’re the perfect pack for me.”
“Would you stay if they were?” I ask so quietly I’m not even sure she heard me.
