Page 82 of Heat & Deceit
Even with Lycus being so obnoxious, I don’t understand how those alphas are still single.
Their wealth alone is enough to entice most single omegas.
I stare at the screen, which is prompting me to work through the next steps. An idea sparks, and even though it absolutely makes me a stalker, I pull up my new social media page for Carmine. I have a grand total of twelve friends—super pathetic, I know, but at least I have a page. It’s some sort of proof of existence. Navigating to the search area, I look them up.
Rome’s profile is locked down. I can’t see anything without connecting with him.
Javier’s is pretty much the same, but there are a few birthday posts and one memory of him with his arm around a woman. A really fucking beautiful woman. I squint and fight off the irrational jealousy. These alphas are in no way, shape, or form even close to being mine.
I cannot get territorial over them, especially while I’m running out of heat suppressants.
The best thing to do is to pretend like they don’t exist.
I click on the picture and zoom in. His hand lightly rests on her shoulder. That’s good, right? I mean, he’s not grabbing ass or grazing her boobs with his fingers. The touch is more friendly. Familial? Maybe it’s his mom.
There’s no way it’s his mom.
She’s too young.
Sister? No, he didn’t mention siblings the other night.
Seeing her profile tagged, I click on the link, and a deep frown takes hold. Her last name is different. They’re not related.
Who is she?
Cousin? Could be.
Oh my god, this is insane.
I should stop.
But what about Lycus?
Quickly typing in his name, I find his profile in the same secure state. I release a tiny growl of frustration and drop my hands onto the laptop. My finger glances across the mouse tracking pad, and I accidentally press the button to request to be his friend.
Shit.
“Oh, fuck. No, no, no, no, no.” I quickly cancel the friend request and snap the laptop closed, dropping my head back and blowing out a hard breath. “You’re a horrible stalker, Nova.”
On the plus side, at least the stalking was done while most people are asleep. Lycus probably has no idea I even requested his friendship. That’s a stupid way to phrase that. It’s social media, for fuck’s sake. Can you really request friendship by pressing a button?
Ninety percent of social media is made for spying on people you used to know. The other ten percent is for parents and grandparents to post pictures of their precious babies, forcing information about their spawn down everyone’s throats.
A yawn hits me square in the jaw, and my eyes water, begging to close so my body can get the sleep it needs to function. Okay. I’m a cranky bitch at nearly four a.m. In retrospect, maybe social media isn’t so bad. I still don’t want to hear about poops and potty training, but kids are actually kind of cute when they’re not coughing or slobbering all over other people.
But like I said...social media wasmadefor snooping.
And by accidentally hitting the request button, I was basically asking for rights to creep on him and his pack. I could have figured out who that chick was in Javier’s picture.
Maybe I should have let the request go through.
No.
I’m supposed to be boring. I’m not supposed to be interesting, and in turn, I’m not supposed to be interested. This whole fake identity and personality is turning out to be harder than I thought it would be.
It’s one-hundred-percent the alphas’ fault.
If they weren’t so annoying with their confident smirks and bossy attitudes, maybe I’d be able to fade away like I’d planned.
