Our Deceptive Heat (When it Raines Omegaverse #3)

8. Digs

Chapter eight

Digs

Storm clouds crashed into the world, and then there was you- Dillon ‘Digs’ Fate

I fold my massive arms over my chest and watch her approach. She’s in a pair of skinny jeans that make her legs look so freaking long and a black jumper. Simple. Classic.

And then I see the teal, and every instinct in me wants me to stomp over to her, wrap that dark hair around my wrist and jerk her head back so I can have free access to invade that sexy mouth of hers.

When did my fascination with the songwriter turn into this obsession that has me waking up in the middle of the night, dripping with sweat, and with a hard-on that aches? Oh, the minute I met her, that’s right.

I can’t see her eyes with those huge over-sized shades on, but I know she’s looking at me, I can feel it. The others are on the plane, but I wait for her, making sure she climbs the stairs first, unable to escape or retreat.

I wasn’t convinced she was going to show up, but here she is, proving me wrong. Her lips curl slightly in that perfect smile that is a mask. And that’s why she infuriates me so much because, once, just seeing me could tear that mask off her, but now it’s locked on, and she refuses to be shaken.

“Ryn, you made it.”

“My choices were this or retirement,” she says breezily and steps onto the plane. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your wonderful invitation. I’m Auryn Raines, and I’m going to be redesigning your image for you. Cleaning up the messes and making sure you can sell more music to your fans. ”

My pack stares at her like she’s crazy. To be fair, I think her behaviour is a bit insane, but I want to bend her over the cockpit and fuck her until the plane collapses, and that really would be crazy. Because I have a pack, and she is not a part of it and never will be.

And therein lies my frustration.

It was easier to suppress these feelings when she was a friend. I could tell myself that we were mates, buddies, something meaningful. I didn’t want to ruin anything. But now, I’m so mad at her that I’ve developed this dangerous combination of anger and sexual tension that is fed back through the pack bonds.

Because we all feel that way about her.

I slide past her, making sure my body doesn’t even graze hers, and throw myself into the seat beside Envy.

He keeps his head down, tapping to the beat of a song that I don’t know. Envy has this uncanny ability to play any music he hears on almost any instrument. But on stage, he plays on an acoustic or an electric guitar. Sometimes the keyboard. Mako’s on drums. I have bass, and Tyr sings like a damn bird.

I place a hand on Envy’s thigh, but he ignores me. Still, it makes me feel better to have that contact with him. I keep my eyes on her, watching as she finds a seat, pulls out a laptop, and starts tapping away.

I shake my head and glance at Tyr, who is trying really hard not to look at her.

“The first concert is in three days.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“We’re ready, right?”

“Digs, we’re good,” Tyr says confidently.

I sit back, trying to breathe evenly. I hate take offs because it reminds me I’m in a can in the sky, and my brain hates that thought passionately. My mouth is dry, my heart’s pounding, so I give in and squeeze Envy’s leg a bit tighter and then jolt when he wraps his hand around mine.

“It’s okay, Dillon, we’re here. Nothing is going to happen.”

I inhale and exhale while he keeps up a steady stream of low nonsense things, his deep voice droning in that delicious sound that always makes me feel soft and warm.

Envy is an introvert and totally the shyest member of the band. But he’s not always. When he relaxes, he’s loud, funny, and more than a little wild. That’s how I met him. He was protecting a kitten from some other kids, yelling more curse words than I even knew, and my eleven-year-old little heart didn’t stand a chance. I knew I had to be by his side forever .

He introduced me to Mako and Tyr a week later, and the four of us have been inseparable ever since. Back then, we were just brothers, friends with different mums. It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I started seeing them differently.

It’s hard to think the four of us from the tiny village of Carmine would be sitting on a private jet with everything we could ever want at our fingertips. We’re on track to surpass even Derisions’ popularity.

Our finances are picking up, and the money we get from this tour will pull us out of the danger zone.

We are famous now. Very well known.

That kind of fame comes with chains, we’ve discovered. We can’t shop, we can’t go out for a walk. We need to disguise ourselves and not be seen together.

The plane levels out, and I loosen my hold on Envy’s leg. He releases my hand and goes back to staring at his tablet.

Auryn pulls her laptop out again from where she stashed it.

“So, have you forgiven us yet?” I throw at her, unable to leave her alone. I hate her sitting there ignoring me.

“For which part?” she asks without looking at me. I smile, knowing despite her bland tone, I’m getting under her skin. It doesn’t take much.

“Well, for roping you into being our entourage.”

She glances up, her eyes like blue fire. “I am not and never will be your entourage.”

I bite my lower lip, looking her up and down, the way I know she loves to hate.

“What are you, then, love?”

“I’m your marketing expert!” she snaps and then takes a breath, visibly calming herself. “I’m not here for messing around. I’m here to work. And I owe you a song. Here, listen to this.”

She tosses her phone to me. I catch it and see the song lined up. I press play, listening intently, and then quickly get out of it and send myself a message. Then I send Tyr one and Mako.

She makes a strangled sound as she realises what I’ve done. I look at her, daring her to say something.

I remember the day I realised she had a new number. Fuck, I was so angry I wanted to storm up to her and shake her until her teeth rattled. Instead, I sent her flowers with a message that told her she could run, but she couldn’t hide.

I still remember the way she stilled on the sidewalk as the delivery guy handed them to her. Only her alone on the huge busy street of people bustling, and I brought her to a standstill .

That’s when the amusement of our situation had fled, and I’d really acknowledged the depth of my feelings. That’s when this stopped being a game.

And the absolute truth is, there is no way she can be ours. But I need her in my life, even if it’s just in the smallest way.

I am the most selfish person alive, but I’m not alone. Tyr and Mako are with me. Only Envy holds his decorum, but his feelings are just as strong. Where the bonds can’t hide him, I can tell how much he misses her, too.

Tony Renshaw, our manager, gets out of his seat and goes and sits beside Ryn. I’m not jealous, not at all. He opens a folder, and they start talking quietly. The older man is married with a wife who lives in our village. They have three adult children and are good friends of ours. I trust him as much as I trust my family. It’s just, its Ryn. His salt and pepper hair shifts in the air conditioning, and I want to rip his wrinkled face off when he smiles at her. He still has charm and charisma, and she’s smiling back at him.

My smiles.

He’s known her for years, too. I know he missed her a lot.

I watch them like a hawk while I pretend to listen to the song, but Envy snatches the phone out of my hand and plays the song again. His fingers twitch and drum on his jeans.

And because he’s listening, Tyr is listening.

“No, the melody is wrong,” Tyr growls.

“What’s wrong with it?” Ryn challenges, proving that she, too, is listening far too closely to us.

“It’s too light. It needs to be darker,” Envy says slowly.

Ryn frowns and bites her lower lip, listening to the music with her head cocked to the side.

It’s the one subject that can get all five of us obsessed. Tyr is humming along and suddenly breaks into the chorus, singing the part with ease.

She transfers her gaze to him, while Mako adds his baritone, singing backup with him in perfect harmony, but darker like Envy told them to.

It sounds better, more poignant.

This is why. When we write music, she can pick up our weaknesses and make it better. When she writes it, we make hers better.

The song finishes, and I watch as she chews her thumb nail, apparently lost in thought, so much so that when Tony speaks, she jumps, almost dislodging her laptop.

I snicker, but I’ve had enough. I pull some eye covers down over my eyes, getting comfortable for the long flight.

Okay, so Tyr’s idea wasn’t such a bad one. But I’m never going to let him know.

I pause when I catch the scent of coconut. Hmm, Tony must have used a new shampoo. Strange, it’s nice. I like it.