Page 44 of The Rogues

That I don’t hate them, not at all. There isn’t even one little speck of annoyance left in my body for these wonderful men, and that’s a problem all on its own. If I’m not careful, the way I feel for them will be very obvious very fast, and I can’t have that, even if it would solve a lot of our problems if people knew.

Because the one person that can’t know would be at the center of it.

Nicola beams at our compliments. “Thanks! But is it too much?”

“No, never,” I respond, my brow arched. “You never care about your outfits being too much. Why do you think this one is?”

Our blonde bassist shrugs, but it looks anything but casual. Along with that and her kiwi scent burning in the air, it’s obvious that she isn’t telling us the truth.

“Spill it, Nic,” Lark says.

She huffs out an agitated groan. “It’s nothing. I just think Alek is a little bit insecure about me being on tour with… them.”

“Has he said anything to you about it?” Lark’s voice darkens as she sits up. “I swear to god, Nic, if he’s been making you feel bad about the way you dress, I will kill him⁠—”

“No,” she says quickly, shaking her hands. “He hasn’t said anything, but things are always tense when we’re away from each other this long. I just don’t want to give him any more reason to pull away from me. And considering they’re going to be taking pictures of us tonight and we have to pretend to get along, I just… I don’t want it to look wrong.”

“Just sit beside Cyrus and you won’t have to worry about that. The press is already dead set on linking him to me; it won’t matter,” Cleo says as she walks in. Her own outfit is her brand to a T: combat boots, an oversized band T-shirt masquerading as a dress, and a long-sleeved fishnet undershirt.

I squint at her wrist. Is that one of my bracelets?

“Good thinking!” Nicola exclaims, pointing at her. “I think he’d be least likely to look flirty, too.”

Spit gets caught in my throat and I sputter up a cough. The girls all look at me.

“You okay?” Lark asks.

I wave them off. “Swallowed wrong,” I say, my voice rough from choking, but really it was my body reacting to the absurdity that Nicola just said.

Cyrus is very flirty, probably the flirtiest one besides Lennon or Malaki. Images from that night in Tucson flash through my mind. His dark hair, his almost pastel blue eyes, the way he pulled my stool closer to his.

And not to mention his words. How he voiced the dark desire he felt upon meeting me for the first time, how he wanted to possess me and take me from the very first moment.

I gulp.

I’m grateful that the blush that takes over probably looks natural from my little choking incident. It would look suspicious otherwise.

I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through tonight without someone noticing my distress, or my desire. All I know is that I have to, or things could get out of hand really quickly.

“Ready to go?” Lark asks us.

Cleo sighs. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

Yeah, I think with sweat clinging to my brow. Let’s.

The restaurant is dark, the only light illuminating the place coming from the candles on the tables and through the kitchen door at the back of the room. A part of me is happy about this, because then maybe I can get through tonight without my cover being blown, but another part of me is nervous. Being in a dark, romantic setting with my scent matches sounds like a recipe for disaster.

My omega is already giving me ideas that should probably stay in the deep recesses of my mind.

The guys are seated at the table when we step forward; various chairs open between them so it looks like we’re intermingled, probably table-seated exactly the way our teams want. I look at all the options, curious as to which seat my team chose for me.

There’s a bit of standstill as we all get closer. The guys don’t look as irritated by this arrangement as we do. They greet us, give us lovely hellos, but only Nicola and I respond. Cleo is tight-lipped and Lark is her usual grumpy self.

I don’t think Lark has a problem with The Rogues the same way Cleo does; I just think she has a wall up for anyone that isn’t us.

I try to ignore the fact that every guy’s attention is on me. They try to make it less obvious, but it’s clear to me that they are more caught up in seeing how I am rather than placating our team’s wishes.

I watch as Cyrus gives both Jamie and Remi reassuring arm squeezes, and I sigh. The silent support he offers them is so attractive to me. I’ve seen it a couple times over the past month, little moments where Cyrus’s leadership ability has accidentally shown itself. How he makes sure they all have the right drinks before a show, or how he always coordinates with their tour manager when it comes to accommodations at the next stop, or how he posts videos and tweets daily so the other guys don’t have to.