Page 31 of Follow the Rhythm
“Because if it’s just me, you think I can’t handle myself despite not knowing anything about me. And if it’s Omegas in general, then you’re a condescending prick,” I replied, settling back into the surprisingly comfortable leather seat with my arms crossed.
Kieran scowled as he drove. “Do you know how some Alphas talk about Omegas when no one else is around? There are men out there who see women not just as property, but as property they are entitled to simply because of their genetic makeup. I don’t think you’re incapable or that Omegas are weak. The opposite, actually. I can’t imagine what you have to deal with. But I know how disgusting these men are, and I won’t leave you vulnerable to them.”
It was the most I’d heard him say, and certainly the most passionate I’d ever heard him be. He was gripping the steering wheel hard enough for the leather to creak under his massive hands.
Any descenter left on my skin didn’t stand a chance against the arousal that coursed through me and sizzled in a flush of heat. Apparently, even vaguely feminist rants were enough to turn me on.
“Oh,” I said, my mouth dry.
“But I am sorry for overstepping. You’re right, it isn’t any of my business.” Kieran switched lanes aggressively.
Fuck. A sincere apology and admitting he was wrong? That put me over the edge. My scent billowed to fill the car, and I crossed my legs against the sudden rush of heat between my legs. I choked back a whine.Not the time, I thought desperately.
Kieran inhaled, then rumbled softly on his exhale. He shifted in his seat. “Are you alright?”
“Fine. Sorry,” I blushed so hot my face felt like it was on fire.
Kieran’s scent was intensifying along with my own until the car was a soup of pheromones that made my head spin.
He rolled down the windows just a crack, and fresh air spilled across my face. I sighed with relief.
We rode in very awkward silence for what seemed like an hour, but the dashboard clock said it was only five minutes.
Kieran cleared his throat. “I don’t understand something. How did Ellis not recognize you immediately? I’ve only known you a few weeks, and I won’t forget the experience any time soon.”
I wasn’t sure how to interpret that. I studied his profile, but he was giving nothing away. “It’s Ellis. He’s a self-centered prick. Or maybe I’m only memorable now because I’ve got the exciting kind of pheromones. I thought I was just a Beta back then.”
“Pheromones have nothing to do with it,” Kieran said, still watching the road intently. The breeze from the cracked window had tugged a tendril of his long hair out to stream alongside the car. “So he was always an arrogant little shit, then?”
“Oh god, yeah. We used to have the most pretentious conversations about music. And he always knew he’d be famous.”
I knew the story of how the band met; Ellis was playing in a pub, Kieran and Michael recruited him to start a new trio,and the rest was rock history. But I found myself hoping Kieran would tell the story. I wanted to hear it from his point of view.
“Is that why you’re a fan of our music? Because of him?” he asked instead.
I considered my response. “At first it was. But then the music started meaning more to me.Home of the Freecame out right when I presented as an Omega. I was so pissed and scared, and that album got me through it.”
“I’m honored,” he said.
In the kind of emotional whiplash that only hormonal Omegas can experience, I started getting choked up. That had been before Aunt Natalie had gotten sick, when I still had a sliver of hope that my new designation wouldn’t completely upend my life.
I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms, and exhaled slowly. I wouldnotcry in Kieran Walsh’s car after perfuming for him.
“Michael would have loved meeting you,” Kieran said, his voice horse, and I realized he was also fighting back emotion. My heart surged with empathy. “He would’ve grilled you for all the embarrassing shit Ellis did, so he could take the piss out of him. And he would have loved to hear all your pretentious opinions on music.”
“I would’ve loved to meet him, too.”
Kieran nodded, but kept his eyes on the road.
I instinctively grabbed Kieran’s hand and squeezed. I knew what it was like, having all that grief inside with nowhere to go.
He finally looked at me, surprised, and squeezed my hand back before rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. It was very unfair, but the gesture caused a cascade of full-body tingles.
I considered making a joke, deflecting the genuine moment into something easier. But I didn’t. I just held his hand.
We rode in silence again, but this time it was easier.
He insisted on walking me up. I tried to argue, but he went temporarily deaf. Darrell, the night doorman, checked our IDs carefully before I scanned my pass to get inside. I hoped that would make Kieran feel bad for implying I lived in a dump.
