Page 40 of The Rogues

His alpha doesn’t react or take the bait, still lying idle beneath the surface. Instead, my prime’s face softens, an emotion flitting over his features that looks way too much like pity for me to handle right now.

“What if she never changes her mind, Remi?” he questions, voicing the unspeakable. My body hardens, not wanting to take in his implication, but it’s true. For all my optimism, I have to accept the possibility that my scent match doesn’t want me. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but one that I have to take nonetheless.

Still, it’s not one I haven’t thought of before. She may be keeping a distance right now, but it doesn’t dampen my need for her or erase my memory of having her for a short, glorious moment. For me, it will always be her, and nothing else will ever tempt me away from that.

I shrug. “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life, Cy.”

He watches me, then nods when he sees the honesty in it. “Why don’t you head back? I’ll make sure the two goofballs don’t get into any trouble.”

My lips twitch. “You love those goofballs.”

“Shut up,” he laughs, practically pushing me toward the exit.

Despite still being on the west side of the country, the air is getting brisk. It’ll be much colder as the summer comes to a close, especially now that we’re traveling north to Canada.

I’ve noticed recently that the girls get recognized a lot more than we do in America. Maybe it’s because they’re more famous or because it’s their home country, but it’s a significant difference. I no longer feel the need to travel incognito. Walking back to the parking lot where our buses are located is anything but troubling. I find myself relaxing after the chaotic noise of the club, my hands in my pockets as I stroll down the empty street.

The idea of going to sleep on the bus is a little bit daunting. I like when we get the luxury of staying in a hotel so I can spread my body across a king mattress and stretch my limbs. The bunks in our bus are not meant for someone of my height, and after a night in one of them, my bones feel like crushed pottery bits. Still, tonight we don’t have a choice as the buses plan to take off while we’re all sleeping.

The parking lot comes into view, the buses plain as day as they sit in front of each other in the corner, both entrances facing toward me.

I walk a bit faster, but then halt when a tiny figure comes from the direction of the parking deck, a variety of snacks balanced in the crook of her elbow as she sips on something colorful in a clear cup.

When Josie sees me, she freezes, her mouth wrapped around the straw. Even in her black sweatpants and the worn-down baseball cap on her head that’s meant to obscure her face, she leaves me completely breathless. She looks stunning, and I can’t help myself from stepping towards her.

“Is that a late-night smoothie?” I ask.

She pulls the straw back, swallowing the contents before replying. “Yeah, the delivery driver couldn’t find the bus so I had to head to the security desk for the parking deck.”

I turn around to look at the buses. “They couldn’t find these massive things?”

“Right.” Her lips twitch with amusement. “But it’s probably for the best; we don’t want random people showing up.”

I nod, temporarily distracted by the rose tattoo peeking out beneath her shirt above her collarbone. This mundane small talk feels like the biggest gift, and I never want it to end.

“I saw your bandmates at Phire,” I comment.

“Yeah, I…” She swallows. “The noise is sometimes too much for me.”

“Same. It’s not the same when you’re no longer twenty-one. It just feels like a waste of time.” I scratch the back of my neck, feeling anxious. I never feel anxious, but somehow this omega has a way of pulling the most unfamiliar emotions out of me. “I like America, but the nightlife is overstimulating. I much prefer the pub scene in London.”

Her brows raise, and the sexiest teasing grin appears on her face. “Too much drama for you, Ainsworth?”

For half a second, I wonder if I should bring up what I saw at the club, but then think better of it. If it’s something they want her to know, I am sure they will tell her when they get back.

In response to her playful question, I smile. “Too much drama, for sure. I’d much rather be somewhere more quiet and”—I pause, pretending to think of the word—“intimate.”

She bites her lip, and there’s a fire in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. “What would you call what we did in a crowded club, then?”

Oh shit.

My lips part and my heart pounds in my chest. I didn’t think she would bring up our little tryst in the bathroom.

“That was more primal than anything,” I respond. “But still just as special in my book.”

Her face flushes, the more subdued girl I remember entering the conversation. She seems to like going tit for tat, but I can see the desire for submission glossing over in her eyes. It speaks to me in a way that might be considered barbaric, but I can’t help the images that pop in my head at her suddenly bashful state.

I can do a lot with that. I can find many different ways to make her flush that very pretty pink, the color so striking that it tugs my alpha from his deep slumber in my chest.