Page 92 of The Rogues

His answering grin is so sexy, I have to bite my lip to keep quiet at the sight of it. “What we told you last night was the truth. When you left our tour bus that one time, we did help each other out. It wasn’t the first time, and if you’re okay with it, I’m sure it won’t be the last. But we’re not romantically involved like Cyrus and Malaki are with Jamie.”

I nod, trying to understand the dynamic. “So, you’re friends that fuck sometimes?”

He shakes his head. “We’ve fooled around, but we’ve never done penetration.” He laughs when he sees the scandalized looks on my face. “It just doesn’t feel like us.”

“How did it start?”

Remi pauses, like he’s thinking back through all the years they’ve known each other, his smile quirking at the memories. “Around the same time Malaki and Cyrus started getting serious about Jamie.”

I smile. “Because you wanted to have that connection, too?”

Remi’s relaxed features light up with amusement. “I guess it just opened up our minds to the possibility. When your friends are being so open and honest with themselves about who they are and what they want, it makes you think the same thing about yourself. Lennon and I hung out a lot while those three went on dates and went through their courtship, so we… fell into it, I guess. Experimented. When we realized we enjoyed it and it didn’t have to alter our friendship, we let it happen naturally whenever the urge came up. It just worked for us.”

I nod, processing it all. I remember when Cleo was coming to terms with her pansexuality, how people looked at her and how they questioned her honesty in the matter, especially when she was “dating” Cyrus. I remember her explaining to me in high school how it took her a while to realize it wasn’t just her attraction, but her romantic interests that helped shape the image she had of herself. The crushes she had, who she fell in love with, who she could see herself being vulnerable with. The sparks you get in your belly when someone accidentally brushes your hand or stands too close to you. From my understanding, these two don’t feel that way toward each other. They are just so comfortable with each other that helping each other out is a choice made out of primal need rather than romantic connection.

“Well,” I start. “I don’t mind. If you guys want to help each other out still, or if the urge happens. But if you ever changed your minds about each other, or start to feel anything different, I’d like you to tell me. That’s my only ask.”

He places his hands on my cheeks, cradling my face, and my stomach blooms with a fluttery sensation. “Always. No secrets. If anything like that happens, we will tell you. That’s a given.” His thumb brushes over my skin slightly. “But I will say, us being together would probably only happen if you weren’t around. And even if it did, we’d probably both spend the entire time talking about you to tease each other more than anything.”

A giggle escapes. “Is that what happened on the bus?”

His lips tilt upwards. “Would you like me to tell you?” he whispers. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Knowing every single detail of that night, how we inhaled that sensational scent you left behind and stroked each other until we came with your name on our lips?”

I feel myself pulse around him where he’s nestled inside of me, and we both let out strangled groans. “Stop. We’ll be like this all day if you talk to me like that.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” he tells me. “Maybe I want to be cockwarmed inside this gorgeous cunt all fucking day.”

“We have a concert tonight,” I laugh.

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I don’t care one bit. They could stand there waiting for us all night long, and I couldn’t care less because I’d still be here with you. Actual bliss incarnate.”

THIRTY

MONTREAL, QUEBEC, CANADA

I’m entirely clueless as the tinted van travels through the city. Malaki and Jamie sit on either side of me, their anticipation obvious as Malaki grins every second and Jamie’s knee bobs up and down.

“I really hate that you figured me out,” I tell the beta, referring to our conversation all those weeks ago in Los Angeles.

He grins. “If it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t easy. You keep things close to your chest sometimes.”

I feel giddy as he says that, like he can see how I operate and isn’t burdened by it. It’s one of the things I like most about the guys, how go-with-the-flow they are when it comes to how I react to things.

I told Jamie once that I didn’t do courting gifts, but I was partially lying. I can buy anything I want in the world, so I don’t have to ask anyone else to buy things for me. I do like to be spoiled just like any other omega, but I like mine in a certain sequence. And… when I least expect it.

Therefore, Jamie eventually discovered my one kryptonite: surprises.

It doesn’t matter how big or small they are; it always works in my partner’s favor. If it catches me off guard, the bigger the reward. There’s something so magical about someone being able to tell exactly what you want and giving it to you without any provocation.

Which is why when we pull up to the most well-known tattoo shop in the city, my gasp is so loud it’s almost frightful.

“Oh my god!” I hop out of the van, admiring the sign that I’ve only ever seen online. This shop is on my bucket list; it’s in the top ten, actually. Hanson Cooke, who is a celebrity tattoo artist from one of those ink shows, personally works here, and it has made this place’s waitlist nearly impossible. It takes years to get in, and that in itself has always given me way too much anxiety to even try.

I look back at Jamie. “Am I mistaken? Are we going in there?”

He interlaces his hands with Malaki and grins. “We are. This is your surprise.” He bites his lip. “Do you like it?”

I nearly pass out from utter shock. “Like it? I am fucking floored! How the fuck did you do this?”