Page 34 of Heat & Deceit
His shoulders drop slightly. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry for laughing at Matthew and for ruining your date.”
I don’t bother telling him it was already ruined; he’d get too much pleasure out of that. Instead, I say, “It’s okay. I accept your apology.”
Silence settles between us, and I find myself strangely sad he isn’t joking or egging me on. I worry I hurt his feelings, but he had been invasive. And even if he is a little charming, shouldn’t someone tell him that?
In my experience, alphas don’t care when they overstep. But Ly seems bothered. Or, at the very least, disappointed I’m not falling all over him.
The waitress arrives with the check, and I count out the cash and drop my half onto the table while Ly pulls out a sleek black card.
“It was...something,” I tell him with an almost smile. “I hope you find your omega.”
“See you around.”
Don’t count on it, I want to say, but I’ve already hurt his feelings once, and I don’t want to make matters worse. I simply get up and nod at him, promising myself to buy the biggest vibrator with the strongest setting as soon as I get home.
Dating is awful.
Eight
LY
I have no idea what just happened, but a dreary date ended up being one of the most chaotically fun nights of my life. I’m fairly certain Carmine hates me. But god, the way her gaze darkened when I’d say something snarky was feeding me. The omega I was with was nice, and I’m sure she’ll make a pack very happy, but she wasn’t fun to play with.
She didn’t get the jokes.
She wouldn’t snark back.
And she most certainly didn’t call me an asshole.
But Carmine had, all the while wearing a little grin that told me all I needed to know. The beta is like me. Quick and witty. Though that wasn’t apparent until I inserted myself into the conversation she was having with her date.
The dude was out of his depth. He wanted someone to control; some betas are like that. Sometimes, I think it’s their way of making up for not being able to alpha bark people into doing their bidding. Instead, they find docile mates who won’t mind being corrected or told they can’t drink wine.
When Matthew told Carmine she wasn’t going to drink, I swear I saw a flash of pure violence on her face. But she quickly tucked it away before clearly stating she actually would like a drink. That’s when I knew there was more to her than she let on. She sat through Matthew’s corrections with a clearly fake smile. He was too busy talking about himself to pay attention to what his date was feeling, though I can’t really say much on that front. I’d been too busy eavesdropping on them to notice how pissed my date was.
“And here you go.” The waitress returns with the receipt. I leave a generous tip to cover for both tables and head out to the parking lot, where my Boxley gleams under the yellow floodlights.
Once I’m inside and heading down the road, I crank up the music, drowning out my thoughts, which keep wandering back to the beta with beautiful brunette hair and hazel-gray eyes. Too bad she’s not what the pack is looking for. We need an omega.
* * *
Javier and Rome find me in front of the piano a few hours later. I’m in the middle of playing my favorite dark piece, so I don’t bother glancing at them as they settle onto the leather couch. The crystal decanter tings as they fill their tumblers full of whiskey, but otherwise, it’s only my music filling the room.
Letting my body flow down into the despairing part of the song, I curl over the piano and reverently hit the keys, giving the song everything it deserves and nothing less. The music thrums through the room, reverberating in the most haunting way, thanks to the acoustics. Then slowly, almost regretfully, I chase the music to the end of the sheet, until only the last note carries through the room.
I suck in a heavy breath and turn toward the guys, my brain still buzzing from playing for so long.
“That was amazing,” Rome says. “Is it new?”
“It’s not mine.” I stand from the piano, but every step away from the instrument is like walking through sludge. Sometimes it’s like this when I’m forced to stop before I’m ready. The guys would have sat through a few more songs, but I know they’re eager to hear about the date, and as soon as they came in, the mood was ruined.
They’ll be disappointed.
Again.
I duck my head to grab a tumbler, hiding the frown twitching across my face.
“How did it go?” Javier asks, hopeful as always.
