“Congratulations,” I croak, unable to find my voice all of a sudden.
“Come on, man,” Ash calls from behind me. “Put her down. We need to collect our award.”
“Not yet,” he growls in my ear, before tipping my jaw towards him with the tip of his fingers and kissing me for the third time tonight.
And holy smoke his kisses are good. Teasing, delicious, unexpected.
Were we meant to be kissing now? Was it part of the plan? I can’t even remember anymore. But before I can properly start enjoying this kiss, before I forget we have a no tongue rule and I part my lips inviting him in, someone is dragging Hunter away.
My mouth chases after his, but when I open my eyes, he’s already halfway out of his seat, West grabbing the back of his collar, a wide grin on his face.
A spotlight beams down on us all and I realize the audience of millions saw that kiss.
In fact, I can already feel my phone vibrating in my purse by my feet as the band jumps up onto the stage and Ash lifts the award above his head to cheers from the crowd.
If there happened to be a living soul in the country who didn’t know Hunter and I were dating, they sure as hell do now!
7
Hunter
I haveto keep reminding my dumb inner alpha that the omega glued to my side is not in factouromega. No matter how good she smells. No matter how good her mouth tastes. No matter how many smiles she throws in our direction.
This is fake. Acting. Not real.
But fuck it feels real. When she threw her arms around my neck, when she snuggled up against my side, each time I kissed her. That felt real all right. Maybe more real than anything has done in a long time.
I'm used to all the bullshit by now. The faux praise. The shady adoration. It’s never real. People want stuff from me. My connections, my money, my fame. They always want one of those things.
Yeah, and Isabella’s no different. She’s doing this for the inflated wage check and the tempting bonus.
I can’t blame her for it. Wasn’t I the same when I rocked up in LA, determined to leave behind my demons and make something of myself and my life? I rode my connections hard. I wormed my way into places I had no right to be. I hustled hard and in the end what did it get me?
I’m still working that out.
The music I love. Creating music that blows people’s mind with three other alphas who may be assholes, but are fucking talented; it’s what keeps me here. Keeps me climbing out of bed every day.
But the rest of it?
I would happily walk away from all the bullshit lies and fakery.
The omega tugs on my sleeve to catch my attention and I realize I haven’t been paying attention to the conversation she was having with some junior exec from the record company. He’d come waltzing up to me like we were old friends when I’m pretty sure we’ve only met twice before. And while I was happy to cut him dead and leave him hanging, Isabella struck up a conversation about fuck knows what.
She has that ability I realize, the one I’ve always lacked, to talk to anyone, to find common ground and to make them laugh.
“Are you hanging on in there, Alpha?”
Alpha? Shit, I have to swallow down a growl when she calls me that.
“I thought you were meant to call me Dumpling,” I whisper to her.
She giggles, poking me in the gut for the second time today. “I realize that name doesn’t suit you. You’re far too … solid. Dumplings are squishy and soft and doughy.”
“You prefer your men squishy?” I ask with a tease. Fuck I can’t help teasing this woman, it’s far too much fun.
“I haven’t decided how I prefer my men yet,” she says with a hint of truth. “I’m only 25.”
25? Shit. I was starting school when she was born.