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“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” She smirks.
I’m thinking about how Malachi looks like a giver, and I bet he’d crawl under the table.
“Gimme your phone.” I wiggle my fingers and wait for her to hand me her phone. I put my number in and text myself. “I work until seven.”
They invited me anyway.
She squeals. “I’ll be here to pick you up.” She damn near bounces in her seat as she pays for her hair. “We should totally eat first.”
I’m their dinner, so I will need calories.
“Tacos?” I ask hopefully, because I am a slut for tacos. She laughs at me. She thinks I’m joking, but I’m so serious, it hurts.
“Wear something hot,” Willow says with a wink as she grabs her purse and heads for the door. “And I mean smoking hot. We’re going to make every head turn when we walk into that club.”
I only want their attention.
I shake my head, laughing. “You got it, girl. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The door chimes as she exits, leaving me alone in the salon. I lean back in the chair, staring at the glossy ticket in my hand. The Red Door. Of all the clubs in the city, it had to be this one.
Part of me wants to bail, make up some excuse, and spend the night curled up on my couch with a pint of ice cream and a sappy rom-com, but another part of me, a bigger part, knows I need this. I need a night out with a friend to forget my troubles and just let loose.
Not to mention I have no idea if my apartment is even safe.
I think back to what I told Willow earlier, about leaving a trail of hearts behind her. It’s time I take my own advice…not that I didn’t already commit to seeing where things could go with the Clarke pack.
I’m going to keep my omega identity a secret from the pack, for a little while longer at least. Quinn knows, but I’ve sworn him to secrecy. I want them all to want me, Aria, the woman, not just Aria the omega.
Or Aria their scent match. Something I think they with either be thrilled with, or they may absolutely hate me for keeping a secret.
I had all afternoon to think about it while working, and it’s the only way I’m willing to see where things will go. Noah wanted Aria the omega, and he abused that relationship time and time again. With the Clarke pack, I want more, and while that should scare me, it also feels good.
As I start tidying up, the salon’s usual comforting scents of shampoo and hair products mingle with a new, mysterious aroma. My eyes are drawn to a small, ornate box on the counter, its presence as unexpected as the sudden turn my life has taken. It’s made of dark wood, intricately carved with patterns that almost seem…familiar. I pick it up, feeling a strange chill run down my spine. When I open it, it’s empty, but there’s an odd sense of déjà vu. I shake my head, dismissing it as just a long day playing tricks on me, and I set it back down just as the door opens.
I squeal, because dammit, I thought I locked it. As I spin around, I find Malachi leaning against the doorframe with a raised brow. Dressed in dark jeans and a simple, long-sleeved black shirt, he looks casual and absolutely mouthwatering.
He has no idea about the conversations and stories I spent the entire day making up in my head about this man, including very naughty fantasies, but beneath those fantasies, there’s a genuine curiosity about who he is and what he wants.
All I can say is the scent suppressants that voodoo woman gave me are working, because I haven’t slicked myself since this morning, and I’ve been playing in perm solution and bleach all day.
I smell like a chemical buffet.
I also have no idea what to say to him. “Sir, I’m so sorry, but we are closed for the evening.” Why that’s what pops into my head, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s the nervousness of wanting to make a good impression on someone who’s becoming increasingly important to me.
He runs his tongue across his teeth, and I wish that tongue was running over parts of me. “What a shame,” he says. “I could use a shaping.”
Roleplay. All right, that makes this entire confrontation a little easier.
I appraise him with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corners of my lips. “Well, I suppose I could make an exception…for the right price, of course.” My heart races in my chest.
Malachi pushes off the doorframe and saunters over, his movements fluid and predatory. “Name it. Money is no object.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about money, sugar.” Sugar? Who even am I? A horny omega. I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms under my breasts. “I require payment of a different kind.”
His eyes darken as they rake over my body, taking in every curve. “Is that so? And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”
