Page 32 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
“I can’t,” he says so softly I almost miss the words.
“All good in here?” a man asks from the doorway. His dark black hair is swooped to the side, artfully styled in disarray. He’s geared up like Hayden, but I’d recognize that face anywhere. Asher. The man I danced with in the club. His green eyes slide in my direction, taking me in before looking at his friend.
Maybe he doesn’t recognize me.
Hayden jumps away from me like he was caught doing something bad. “It’s fine.”
“Trev wants us to bring everyone into the club.” The man wrinkles his nose. “This place reeks.”
“Come on, Whitney.” Hayden tips his head toward the hallway.
Asher’s eyes snap back to mine, recognition flashing across his face. His mouth parts to say something, then he frowns and closes it.
Great. He does remember me.
With a heavy sigh, I brush past Hayden. He inhales sharply, and I grind my teeth together. I hate my scent more than anything because it’s only brought me problems. Asher breathes in as I approach, a long groan slipping out of his mouth.
“Fuck,” he mutters, quickly taking three steps back and into the wall behind him. “You’re an omega.”
“Do I know you?” I ask, hoping he’ll play along. Alphas don’t have to follow the same rules as omegas, but they’re not supposed to take an omega unless they’re planning on mating her. Considering how cozy we got in the club the other night, he was ready to fuck. He didn’t know I was an omega. I doubt he would have been as forward if he knew what I was when we met. Alphas can have sex with whoever they want before they mate an omega. It’s only the omegas who are supposed to be sacred and virginal.
Fucking Royal Council and their dumbass rules.
“Nope,” Asher says, avoiding my gaze. His cedar scent is heady as it fills the hall. Masculine and alluring. Meant to draw me in.
“Seriously?” I glare at him. “I’m in the middle of being arrested. Keep your dick under control.”
“If you didn’t smell so damn good—” Asher begins, checking me out. There was a lot of chemistry between us the other night. He knows what we did was wrong, but he’s about to tell on the both of us. “Why did you have to be an omega?”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say, tone curt.
Tension crackles between Asher and me. His scent is hard to catch under the sickly sweet smells coating every inch of Twisters, but I recognize the hints of it. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, and steps closer.
“You knew,” he whispers, leveling me with an accusatory look.
“You weren’t supposed to,” I hiss.
Hayden glances at us, confusion lining his face. “Keep moving, Whit. Asher needs a moment. What the hell is wrong with you?” Hayden scolds his friend behind my back. “You’re pissing her off.”
“Why do you care?”
Good fucking question, Asher. Why does Hayden care?
