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Shit, I already asked that, I think. I’m fucking up this getting to know her shit. With an alpha and an omega, it’s all physical, but with Aria, I want to know everything about her.
“You already asked me that.” Aria raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corners of her lips. “Why do you want to know more about me?”
I shrug, taking a bite of my own taco. The savory blend of seasoned meat and fresh toppings bursts in my mouth. “You know, you’re smart, sassy, and drop-dead gorgeous. I figure there’s got to be a story behind someone like you ending up in a place like this.”
“Oh, and you’re an expert on career choices now?” she retorts, wiping a bit of salsa from her chin with the back of her hand. The flicker of amusement in her eyes makes my heart skip a beat.
“Nah, but I know there’s more to you than what meets the eye.” I wink at her, enjoying the way her cheeks flush at the compliment. The hint of pink spreading across her skin is almost as enticing as the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s fighting back a smile. If I get a smile like that every time, I’ll keep asking questions.
“What are you doing Friday night?” I ask, then I take a big bite of my taco to hide my blush. The heat from the spices mixes with the embarrassment simmering in my chest. Usually, women come to me, begging and pleading, and I don’t have to do much work, but with Aria, I have to try, and that alone intrigues me. It makes me want to chase her.
“Why?” she asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“I have a gig,” I tell her with food filling my mouth. I hope I don’t sound as nervous as I feel.
“A gig?” Aria repeats, her curiosity piqued. “What kind of gig?”
I swallow my mouthful of taco. “The kind that involves music, dancing, and maybe a little bit of trouble. My band’s playing at the Red Door.”
“You’re in a band?” Aria’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Let me guess, you’re the brooding lead singer with a tortured past?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Close, but not quite. Guitar.” I pause, because she is also mostly right. “And lead singer.”
“The pack?” she asks, and is there a little bit of expectation there? I think she’s intrigued by my pack.
“They don’t play in the band.” Not because I don’t want them in the band, but because they are all completely tone-deaf. It’s a problem. “A few of the other local alpha packs have musically inclined alphas.”
“So it’s just you who plays in the band?” A little wrinkle forms between her brows.
“Just me, but they are my biggest fans,” I say with a grin. “And maybe someday, you will be too.”
“So like an alpha from another pack.” There’s a little frown on her forehead as she speaks. “I thought packs did everything together.”
“We do,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light and informative. “But it’s also healthy for us to have friends outside of pack dynamics.”
“I never would have thought of that,” she muses, her voice softening.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. The wood is cool against my skin. “There’s a lot about pack dynamics that might surprise you. We’re not just a bunch of knot-headed alphas grunting at each other.”
Aria snorts, nearly choking on her taco. “Knot-headed alphas? Did you really just say that?”
I chuckle, knowing I have a talent for words. “But seriously, you should come to the show and see for yourself that we’re not just clichés.” Her eyes light up in amusement, and I can’t help but smile back.
She hesitates, her gaze dropping to the half eaten taco in her hands. I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she weighs the pros and cons. The smell of food and the noise of the surrounding patrons fade into the background as I focus solely on her.
“I don’t know, Dash. I don’t…” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don’t do bars.”
I forgot about that. There has to be a way I can get her there.
“I’d love to see you there,” I tell her, leaning in closer. Her unique scent of orange and vanilla envelops me, intoxicating and heady. “You can just come, have a drink, listen to some tunes. If you hate it, you can leave. No hard feelings. No pressure.”
Aria chews her bottom lip, a gesture that sends a jolt of desire straight to my groin. I want to lick her tortured lips.
She nods slowly, her gaze meeting mine. “We will see,” she says.
I’ll take it. “It’s a date then.” I lean in and kiss her cheek again, feeling the warmth of her skin against my lips.
