Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
The black SUVs pull up behind the venue just before midnight, their tires rolling over the wet asphalt with a squelch.
We should all be exhausted, but Florence mentioned wanting to go clubbing and the rest of the girls hopped onto the idea immediately.
And even though I’m not usually one for the club scene, I agreed.
I want to get to know Cyrus’s sister more.
Just from spending the last few hours with her, I can tell she’s a joy to be around.
She’s peppy, silly, and has a touch of sass that screams “don’t mess with me.
” I was nervous about bringing her to our room while the guys performed, but she instantly clicked with the others so naturally.
Cleo was the only one a little bit short with her after finding out who she was, but Lark and Nicola were nothing but gracious.
The former seemed to smile more to balance out Cleo’s awkwardness and Nicola had another ball of energy to bounce ideas with.
Florence and Nicola bonded over their love for plush pendants after the Brit noticed Nicola’s most prized possession, her plush raccoon that she calls Fern. I’ve never seen my bandmate’s eyes light up with so much appreciation. I knew then that Florence had won her over.
Halfway through the set, I took Florence out to the wing beside the stage so she could see them up close. She sang every song, belted every note, and watched her brother singing with stars in her eyes.
She loves him; that much is obvious, but the adoration in her eyes surpassed that. It’s like all the memories of their childhood flashed over her as she admired them. I could see all of it, could see how much this means to her that Cyrus has found his place in the world.
She’s proud, and getting to see just how much was a gift I didn’t expect to receive.
Now, as we stand by the back exit, Florence and Nicola clutching each other’s hands and squealing about some kind of new movie that’s coming out, I feel calm.
The night might not be over, but it feels like everything is moving more smoothly.
Like I can shake off the burden of supervising for the night and just have fun.
The guys roll out as the girls start piling into one of the vans. Despite the lingering humidity from the rainfall, Cyrus’s dark chocolate scent calls out to me like a beacon. It wraps me up in a cozy blanket and lulls me as he comes up to my side.
“Where are you guys heading off to?” he asks.
“Florence wanted to go clubbing since the age limit is eighteen here.” I break the news to him with a small smile. “The girls agreed to take her out.”
Instead of the protectiveness I expect, he nods, considering. “I could go for some dancing.”
I arch a brow. “Really? After your encore? I thought you’d be all rock starred out.”
Cyrus sports a cocky smile. “I have lots of stamina.”
My face flushes and a laugh catches in my throat. Luckily, Malaki saves me from having to answer by poking his head between us.
“Did I hear something about a club?”
“Yeah, we’re going to one!” Florence’s head appears out of the van door. “Are you coming or not?”
“Hell yeah!” he exclaims, jumping into the van without a second thought. Jamie laughs behind us, his head shaking with amusement.
“Looks like we’re going out,” he comments, stepping forward to get in the front seat.
I turn around to look at the others. Remi is already getting in the second van. When we catch eyes, he winks, and the casual sexiness of it sends a shock of energy down my spine. Lennon steps toward me slowly, a small dose of anxiety showing in his features.
“I’ll probably head back,” Lennon says, his lips flattening as he tries to gauge my reaction to that. “The concert took it out of me tonight.”
“I could come with you instead,” I offer, but he shakes his head.
“No, you should spend some time with your other mates. I’ll probably try to get some sleep anyway, so there’s no use in you keeping me company if I’m just going to zonk out,” he informs me, the anxiety falling away as a small grin adorns his lips.
“I’d keep you company even if someone paid me not to,” I try to joke, but his smile lifts higher.
“Careful, little vicious. If my alpha hears that, he’ll want to claim you.”
I breathe in sharply at the playful remark, biting my lip to keep the train of thought that just entered my mind from coming out.
From the way my omega stirs in my chest with excitement, that sounds exactly like what she and I need, and—if he asked—I would lengthen my neck for him right here and now and let him have his way with me.
Even the idea of him claiming me leaves all sorts of warm feelings spreading through my body, ones that don’t have any outlet except turning my skin a subtle crimson. Thankfully, it’s difficult to spot from the dark sky around us.
“I’ll see you soon, Josie,” Lennon says, touching my arm in a soft caress before walking to the other van and hopping in.
His scent is more ginger than beer as it sits on my skin, absorbed by the greedy omega in my chest. The gesture was subtle, and I’m grateful as I grin at the concept of his scent being on me for the remainder of the night.
I turn back to Cyrus, who is pointing over his shoulder toward the van that Lennon just got into.
“There aren’t enough seats in this van, so Remi and I will ride with Lennon and meet back up with you guys in a bit.”
I go to confirm the statement with a nod when a soft touch brings me back to my body.
Cyrus’s lips only linger for a small moment, but the effects are lasting as I feel the kiss burning on my cheek, heat rising to my skin where his scent got left behind.
I look up at him with widened eyes, but there isn’t a single ounce of regret reflected in his.
He gives me a small smile, an apology for the stolen kiss, but I’m not mad at him one bit.
Despite the little bit of anxiety that someone in the car might have noticed, I am glad that he took the step.
Now, his scent is also on me, satiating my omega even more since we’re about to be separated.
He must know because he lets a chuckle escape at my expression.
“Enjoy yourself while we’re gone,” he whispers, all alpha.
When I get in the van, all the girls are in a heated debate with Malaki about the best kind of clubs. Even Cleo is getting riled up, not immune to Malaki’s playful charm. I heave a sigh, grateful that she wasn’t paying attention to Cyrus and me outside as I click my seatbelt into place.
Scratch what I thought earlier. This is going to be a long night.
The club that gets chosen is actually really chill.
The lights that I usually find distracting and overstimulating are more tame and spread out, and the music is a good mix of feel-good and dance-central.
Like always, we pay to get into the VIP section so we can have some semblance of privacy while also enjoying our time among the locals.
Luckily, everyone we come into contact with is nice and respectful, but of course they are. We’re in Canada.
“I’ll be right back!” Cleo screams over the music as she gets up and makes her way out of our section. My eyes trail after her for only a moment before Florence, Malaki, and Nicola burst out laughing, distracting me with their glee.
I look over to them all looking at Florence’s phone. “What happened?”
Jamie leans closer. “Probably showing them what she did to her ex. Revenge that ended up online.”
“How did it end up online? Because she’s Cyrus’s sister?”
Jamie arches a brow in my direction, curiosity etched into his features. “You don’t know who the Darlingtons are, do you?”
“Cyrus’s family? I mean, obviously. I’ve never met them.”
Jamie’s smile is anything but patronizing, but it does let his amusement peek through nonetheless. “Cyrus comes from a noble family.”
Now it’s my turn to lift a brow. “Like, dukes and barons?”
Shit, the only thing I know about nobility is from binge-watching Bridgerton.
He chuckles. “Exactly, but I’m not sure what you’d call them specifically. Cyrus’s dad still likes to be considered an aristocrat, but it’s his family history that gives them notoriety more than anything.”
“Oh, okay. So, they’re famous in England, then?”
“Kind of. They’re remembered for their famous ancestors, so they still hold a lot of influence. They inherited prestige and riches from it, but it’s really just an outdated concept.”
I bite my lip, thinking about the blue-eyed alpha. “He didn’t want to be a part of it.”
It’s not a question, because I know. Cyrus is bold, rebellious, and playful; I can’t see him trying to fit into some kind of mold set by some tradition by ancestors he never met.
He’s a rogue, through and through.
“Correct.” Jamie takes a sip of his rum and coke before turning back to me. “His motivation was always about getting away from his father, from his expectations. He became what he needed to so he could live his life on his terms.”
I find my head shaking, empathy growing inside my chest because I know what that’s like.
My family may not be noble, but there are expectations all the same, and they were stifling.
The idea that Cyrus was living in that same kind of hell—being forced to diminish himself for reputation and status—causes an old wound from my past to reopen.
“Anyway, that’s why it’s on the internet,” my beta continues. “It’s not viral or anything, but it’s easy enough to find it if you go looking. Plus, now with Cyrus being the frontman of a rock band, Florence is now the sole heir of their estate. Ironically, the spotlight is now on her.”
I turn back to look at the omega, a sudden soft spot growing for her inside of me, but see that her seat is now empty.
Nicola is texting wildly on her phone, probably to her boyfriend, and Lark is people-watching.
Malaki scoots over next to Jamie and puts his hand lazily on his thigh, squeezing slightly as he gives a drunken smile. “This is so fun!”
“Where did Florence go?” I ask.