Chapter 38
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
CHRISTINE
I give Mylo a boost so he can get a firm grip on the edge of the roof. As he pulls himself over, I enjoy the view of his ass.
He pops his head back over, catching me licking my lips.
Mylo’s eyes narrow to a glare. “Oh, now I see why you were so excited to be helpful. You just wanted to look up my skirt!”
“You’d deny a girl her emotional support ulterior motive?”
Before Mylo can answer, I back up and approach the wall with a running start, kicking off the brick and pushing my momentum upwards so I can vault myself over the edge of the roof, landing next to Mylo.
He stands with arms folded, rolling his eyes. “You’re so annoying. Celebrities should be banned from the internet.”
I step past Mylo and drop onto the flat tar roof, lounging with my legs kicked out.
He sinks tentatively next to me, wrapping his arms around his ribs and shivering against the chill night breeze.
“Oh, you’re ridiculous.” I reach over and pull him into my lap.
He gives a delicious yelp, then relaxes back against me, snuggling into my warmth. I tuck my nose into his hair, breathing deep. God, he smells good.
Then we… just sit. His gaze drifts up to the sky, and mine follows. It’s fewer stars than you can see out on the black sand beaches, but it’s still a gorgeous display.
Peaceful minutes tick by, warmed by the muffled music of the party below us. Our breathing syncs, and the gentle weight of Mylo relaxing into my chest puts me at ease.
For once, it’s not so hard to sit still.
Eventually, Mylo sighs. “We did it. We really finished filming.”
I brush his hair back behind his ear, enjoying how he shivers against me. “Sans scandal. How droll.”
“I thought you didn’t want a scandal.”
“You didn’t want a scandal. I think it might be a nice change of pace.”
He laughs, and I love the sound. “Are you insane?”
“Probably. Y’know, I was about to quit before you got here.”
Mylo clicks his tongue. “You? Quit?”
“Yeah.”
He twists to look up at me. “You… wanna elaborate on that?”
“Not really.”
“Do you still want to quit?”
My lips slide down the side of his neck, earning another shiver before landing at the crook of his shoulder. I take a deep breath, just feeling his pulse.
I murmur against his skin, “I don’t know.”
“So, what will you do next? Back to LA?”
“Maybe.” My fingers brush along the hem of his dress where it lies across his thigh. “Or we could stay. I could help you… finish your heat.”
“Do you think that’s safe?”
I slide my cheek along his neck—fuck, he’s soft. My voice is hardly a whisper. “I don’t know.”
“So… then what? I follow you around like a good little omega?”
I kiss his shoulder. “Then you’ll do anything you want. Have anything you want. I already pulled some strings with my contract, and—”
Frustration tightens his sigh. “Tee, you can’t just make these choices for me.”
“It’s not a choice. It’s just an opportunity.”
“An impossible opportunity. With you as Electra, I can’t… It just doesn’t work.”
“Then I’ll quit.”
“You can’t quit.”
“I can and I will.”
“No, I mean… even if you never act in another movie, you’ll always be Christine Evansworth, actress. You’ll always be Electra. You’ll always be famous. I don’t know if I’m… cut out for that.” Then, quieter, “I know I’m not cut out for that.”
The words wrap around me like cold, heavy chains. No matter how much I try to forget it, he’s right.
Some paths are forever closed to me.
Including the path he’s on.
“And besides,” Mylo continues, “you don’t actually mean any of this.”
I press my cheek tighter against his neck. “I do.”
“You think you do. But it’s—it’s just hormones. All of this is… just hormones. You’d regret throwing your life away for me. Resent me for it.”
Something raw cracks open in my chest. “I wouldn’t,” I breathe.
Slowly, deliberately, Mylo raises his hand to his neck and slides it between us—between my teeth and the base of his neck. He leans away from me, and in the places his skin just was, the night air is bitter cold.
“Mylo—”
“You said it yourself. You don’t want to be stuck with me.” He pushes to his feet.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You did. We both did. When we were sober.”
The words sting, but maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s just hormones. Just that partial bonding bite—that will fade with time. In theory, anyway.
But then how does it feel so real?
How does he make me feel so alive?
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to keep from making this worse.
Mylo takes a step toward the edge of the roof, then hesitates. “I think I just… need to be alone. For a few minutes. Do you mind…?”
I nod quickly. “I’ll go inside. But if you need me, want me, just call. Okay?”
Mylo hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
It feels like swimming through shards of glass, but I can’t deny the sincere request of my omega.
My omega. Tonight might be the last night I can think of him that way.
My omega. I drop to the asphalt, and pain lances through my chest, worsening as I trudge inside. My omega. I pause just inside the door, leaning against the wall in the dark storeroom. My omega. A wave of agony steals my breath, my body tearing between instincts.
Fuck, I need another drink. But I can’t bring myself to put any more distance between us.
Light catches on dark glass, and I spy a box full of liquor, probably the tavern’s latest delivery. Not caring what kind, I grab the nearest bottle, pry off the lid, and drink.