Chapter 32 #2
The heavy beat of the instruments helps distract me a tiny bit.
Stacia, Rory, Kit, and I all dance at the front of the stage, moving to the music and listening to the beautiful vocals from their lead singer, Bellamy.
My mind almost couldn’t comprehend that the angelic voice that came during the first song was actually him.
I thought through all the scenarios: he must be lip-syncing, or the microphone has some weird, natural-sounding auto-tune plugged in.
But then he had an a cappella moment during the second song, and it threw all my theories into the water. He’s genuinely that good of a vocalist.
Stacia watches her alpha on stage, happiness swirling in her giddy expression.
Kit stays close to me. A part of his skin always seems to be touching mine, and my omega loves it as much as I do.
And I can finally admit that. After our time together a few weeks ago, I’ve thought about him more often in the secluded sector of my bedroom.
The beast inside my chest has been pushing for another round, making me feel feral and itchy with nothing but my vibrator, but I’ve been refusing the call.
Quite detrimentally, I’d say, if the cramp in my stomach is anything to go by.
I flush underneath the dimmed lights, keeping my eyes away from Kit because one look will have me begging for more. In my desire to avoid my ever-growing feelings, I catch eyes with the guitarist and he winks at me, his fingers working the white fender latched around his shoulder.
My impromptu drink with Nova Cooper was anything but boring.
He’s hilarious, attractive, and borderline enchanting with the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room.
I can sincerely say I enjoyed my time with him and fancied his spiced scent even though it’s not the same apple tied to my soul.
And, maybe I’m wrong, but I think he might have enjoyed my company just as much.
An idea starts to form in my head.
Ciro reaches around Stacia, hugging her from behind and kissing her cheek. “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?” Stacia shakes her head and Ciro leaves. I wait a few moments before telling Kit I’m going to the bar.
“I’ll go with you,” he says.
“No,” I respond, perhaps a bit too quickly, by the way Kit’s narrowed gaze falls upon me. “You’re enjoying the music. Let me get this round.”
He observes me. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
When I get to the bar, I’m thankful to see Ciro still waiting for his drink. I scoot in beside him, mindful not to touch him since he is Stacia’s mate, and wave down the bartender.
“Can I get a watermelon spritz and a Blue Moon, please?” I ask, including Thatcher’s order from earlier.
“You can’t look as young as you do and not expect to get carded, darling,” he says with a touch of arrogance.
“Oh, fuck you,” I say, not in the mood to deal with an arrogant bartender as I throw down my ID on the table.
Ciro immediately cracks up, his face morphing into one of amused disbelief. “Damn, Opal.”
When the bartender sees the date, he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What’s your address?”
My mouth drops. “Are you serious?”
Ciro cuts in. “Sir, you just took my order a second ago with an expired ID. Do you really want to deny the lady her drink?”
The alpha behind the counter observes my friend, who refuses to back down. He then gives me my license back and turns to me. “Watermelon spritz and Blue Moon?”
I tut at him. “Make that two watermelon spritzes so I don’t have to come back and deal with you again.”
The bartender finally walks away, and I let out a huge sigh of relief from the absence of his annoyed scent.
“Gosh, he’s a dick,” Ciro says. “He could have just asked you for your ID like a normal person.”
“Exactly.” My stomach contracts then, and I try to keep a grimace off my face. I turn to my friend, acting nonchalant. “Hey, that guy in Uriah’s band… the guitar player.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Nova? What about him?”
My shoulders come up in a casual shrug. “I don’t know. Is he a good guy?”
Ciro blinks at me for a moment, then the corner of his lip turns up. “You’re trying to bang him.”
My mouth snaps open, and then I scoff in a way that’s entirely unnatural. “What? Me? No, that’s not what I—”
“Hey.” He puts his hands up in fake surrender. “I get it, he’s hot. And from his reputation, he’s good, too. I completely understand it.”
“Reputation?” I ask.
“Well, his name is Nova for a reason.” When he realizes that I don’t get it, he chuckles. “Like… Casanova.”
Oh. “He sleeps around a lot?”
Ciro titters. “That’s an understatement. Bellamy isn’t any better, either. The only person in that band now—since Uriah doesn’t count—that has a normal sex life is Phineas.”
“The drummer?” I guess.
“Indeed. Sweet kid. But if you’re looking for something without any strings attached, Nova is your guy. And—” He turns to look at the stage, and I see why when I look as well. Nova is peering out over the crowd, apparently having found me in the midst. “It seems like he might like that, too.”
We get our drinks and make our way back to our friends.
I give Thatcher the Blue Moon I ordered, and his surprised expression bleeds with the tiniest bit of adoration, hitting me right in the cavity in my chest. I give Kit the other spritz, and we continue to dance as I try to work through how I could possibly sleep with someone that isn’t my scent match in order to alleviate this ache.
Now, when I look at Nova’s and my conversation, it seems reasonable that he took the opportunity to get to know me and buy me a drink. I’m a friend of his bandmate, a prime opportunity. His flirty nature feels more real to me now.
It’s an opportune moment for me, too. I need a playboy to help me with my issue, and I just happen to have one right here in front of me on a silver platter.
And it’s obvious that his sights are set on me.
That could work to my advantage, I realize.
His apple scent isn’t the one I want, isn’t the one my omega craves, but I think it’ll have to do for now.
I can’t risk getting set off into a full-blown heat, and my fear is telling me that if any of my scent matches were to help me, it would do exactly that.
My plan seems to be more plausible now that I know Nova is used to conquests. I hope he doesn’t mind if I have one of my own.
So, I try to catch eyes with the Casanova once more. He is immediately ensnared in my trap, meeting my eyes and peering right into my guilty soul. The invitation is there, no matter how wrong it feels. We both have an itch we need to get rid of, and I’m sure he can help me do just that.