Page 85 of Heat & Deceit
“Lycus...” I trail off and drop my gaze. “You need an omega, and whatever this thing is between us, it’s probably not healthy. I literally want to squeeze this chocolate sauce all over your head right now.”
“I love chocolate.”
“Don’t be cheeky.”
He puffs out his cheeks like a chipmunk, and I try, I really try, not to laugh, but a small giggle slips past my lips. His eyes light up at the sound, and I know I’ve done the unforgivable. I’ve given him what he wanted. A confirmation that, despite what I say, I do sort of like him.
“Asshole,” I mutter to try and cover my tracks.
He presses into my space so our faces are mere inches apart again. My heart is slamming against my ribcage, and my body is begging to press against his, to touch and memorize every hard plane of his delectable body.
“Brat,” he whispers, softly bopping my nose and pulling back before I can so much as growl. All traces of humor drain from his face, and he gives me a stern once-over. “Get to work, Carmine.”
Twenty-Four
LY
I lock myself in the office for an hour, forcing myself to pore over paperwork instead of going out to taunt and mess with Carmine. The friend request hit my phone around four this morning, and had I been asleep, I would have missed it. Luck would have it that I was up, working on a song. Before I could even respond, she revoked the request, but that didn’t stop me from doing my own stalking.
Carmine doesn’t have very many friends; at least, not on the social media apps. Curiosity got the better of me, and I may have spent an hour searching for her online, trying to dig up whatever I could. There wasn’t much. That little tidbit makes me wonder what exactly Carmine is hiding.
Or maybe she hates social media.
That’s a real possibility. In general, she doesn’t seem like much of a people person. She doesn’t strike me as the type to have a bunch of different friend groups. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m the same. I have a core group of friends—my pack—and that’s about it. Acquaintances are just that.
There are no girlfriends.
Carmine has borne witness to that failure.
After all the drunken confessions I made, she was nice enough to try and convince me that I’m not unlovable. But as much as I’d like to believe her, I can’t.
My pack loves me, but we’re a family. Romantic love that’s given freely, without any bindings or duty? That’s something I’ll never have.
Who would love you? You’re a mistake, Lycus. My biggest disappointment.
My fathers were always quick to remind me how I ruined their lives. I took away the only person they ever loved.
“Fuck this,” I mutter when I begin to think too hard about why I’m always screwing things up. I shove away from the desk and head to the front. There’s a small line, but Carmine and Tonya are working through the orders like a well-oiled machine. I mosey over to the end of the counter and wait for Carmine to finish with a drink. She turns to call out the customer’s name, stopping when her eyes land on me.
A flash of surprise ignites in those pretty hazel-gray irises. I think I like that look.
“I’m here to help.”
She purses her lips and hands me the drink. I take it and brush my thumb along the inside of her wrist, catching the way her shoulders twitch with a shiver.
“A latte for Rob,” I call out.
“That’s me.”
Carmine side-eyes me as I turn to wait for another. “I think we’ve got it handled.”
“I can see that.”
She grabs milk and pours it into the steamer cup. “So...feel free to go do boss things.”
“Oh, but I am.” I slide my gaze over her. “I’m studying front-of-house operations.”
Stepping closer, she grabs a medium to-go cup and whispers, “Front-of-house operations don’t include my boobs.”
