Page 48 of The Rogues

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” he says gently, his accent causing my stomach to flutter.

“Tomorrow?” I repeat, still dazed from the stolen kiss.

“Yes,” he replies, and I realize he’s just as affected as me.

“I don’t know⁠—”

“It’ll just be us. I won’t even tell the guys. Let me take you somewhere and forget about this for a few hours.”

The tightness I feel in my chest immediately loosens, the pressure easing out air like a balloon. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

He nods. “Of course. We all work at your pace, Josie. We will accept whatever you want to give us.” He gives me a sideways grin as I flush pink. “Besides, I’m usually the one who goes off by himself with no explanation. They’ll be none the wiser.”

My head is still trying to wrap the idea of starting anew with this pack. They’ve been patient, giving me the space I needed to figure things out. I’m afraid that the time away was for nothing, considering I’m right back at step one with Cleo, and that makes it hard for me to agree.

But his arms feel so good around me, like I never want to feel anything but this security that he embodies. So, no matter what my head is screaming at me, my heart has already decided.

“Okay,” I agree, and his eyes light up. “But we’ll be recognized.”

None of us get recognized as much as Cleo does, but it’s still always a hassle when it happens. And with my tattoos and Nicola’s hair, it seems to be happening more and more these days.

“We’ll go incognito. Do you not own wigs so you can go out?”

“Yes, of course, but my tattoos⁠—”

He grins. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”

That’s all I need to hear. I feel like I’ve been carrying so much weight on my shoulders for so long, trying to make everything work, that the very thought of someone else taking control makes my entire body relax.

“Let’s do it.”

SIXTEEN

Despite getting through the suite unnoticed, I still find myself tiptoeing down the hallway—completely unsuspicious, wearing my ordinary black rock star wig and disgusting khaki trench coat. My pack mates are usually the ones who wear combat boots, so I stole a pair of Lennon’s today since we wear the same size. I traded out my sneakers for hard leather, hoping I don’t ruin the expensive material with what I have planned today.

Because of my own silly disguise, I don’t expect to see Josie looking the way she does when I walk outside. My vision was to go for something borderline ridiculous, but she actually pulls it all off extremely well. The long pink wig fits her perfectly, and—I must admit—the expensive long-sleeved jacket completes the look as she stands there with her hands in her pockets, her red lips curved into a small smile.

My heart pumps as I get closer to her. It’s so good to see her face full of joy. I’ve seen her mood take a dive too much lately, and it feels even worse that I’m not in a position where I can help. I wish I could make it all better; take all her worries and stresses and sadness and bundle it in a ball so I can throw it in a furnace, but it’s not my job. Not until she lets me.

And today, she’s giving me that.

When she sees me, her smile grows. “You really go all out, Blakely.”

She looks down at my outfit and bursts out laughing. “So, your idea of going incognito is looking like an ordinary serial killer?”

I gasp. “I do not look like a serial killer.”

She can’t contain her joy as she points at me. “You do. Only weirdos wear those kinds of trench coats.”

“No! People in cities wear them. A lot of people in Seattle wore them.”

“But they weren’t trying to cover up their blue mullets.”

My hands go to my wig playfully. “Is it that noticeable? Can you see any of it?”

She shakes her head. “You are a menace, Malaki Blakely.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling, her presence a huge light. My alpha is already starting to feel better in my chest, his awareness peeking over the edges as he hears his omega’s laughter.