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Smith’s laughter might be the best sound I’ve ever heard. Every bit as alluring as his smile, but layered with joy; and a note of surprise that makes me want to laugh, too.
His phone is plugged into the Range Rover’s center console, pumping out some horribly whiny alternative rock. When he sees me glance at the display, wincing, he chuckles again. “Here, little petal. Pick whatever you like.”
The Smith Pierson is handing me his phone?! It doesn’t seem real. He’s practically married to this thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without it on his person.
Except maybe that one night... in his room…
I take the iPhone, swiping it open and scrolling his Spotify. Unlike Cassian and Damon, who always shared their account and recently added me, too—Smith has his own. Of course.
The playlists feel like a whole lot of nothing. Smooth jazz, vague alternative, and something called Mellow Oldies. The sort of music someone puts on because they’re trying not to listen too hard. Pulling a face, I abandon all of his saved songs and go hunting for new material.
While I’m scrolling a text alert pops up at the top of the screen. Irene, the contact name says. Along with one sentence, Missing you tonight!
I blink at the phone as the alert tucks itself into the top of the screen. As if nothing ever happened.
chapter
fifty-two
“Remi?”
I barely hear my name. My mind spins through the last few weeks, clicking pieces together. He’s unavailable from five until eight most nights—at some sort of daily meeting he doesn’t volunteer any information about. And when he turns up? I can sense that he’s been around another omega.
What if my instincts weren’t being psycho? Has he really been spending his evening with another omega? Is that why he’s never tried to get anything more than a kiss on the cheek from me before tonight? Is he getting everything he needs from someone else?
“Remi?” I can’t deny the alarm in his voice. “Are you all right?”
My face feels like it’s made of dry clay while I set the phone back in the center console. “I’m…”
What? Surprised? Stupid? Heartbroken? He won’t like any of those reactions.
Am I supposed to just be okay with this? That’s how a more sophisticated, worldly woman might react. It’s not like he and I are sleeping together. Or having any sort of relationship among ourselves. This is our first date, technically. Maybe, if I try really hard, I can sway him away from whoever Irene is?—
“Remi.” Smith’s gruff, irritated voice matches the way he yanks his hand off my leg and scoops up his phone. Keeping one eye on the road, he glances at the stack of unopened alerts that cascade from the top of his screen when he pulls the tab down.
I can see his gears churning, trying to figure out what I saw. The moment he realizes his mistake, his expression hardens. The hand gripping the wheel goes white-knuckled as he sets his phone back in between us. His posture tightens.
“Remi…” he grunts. “I—it isn’t what you think.”
I must still be in shock because even that lame line doesn’t hit me the way it should. I blink at the side of his face, feeling my insides go cold. He flinches, cringing slightly.
Oh right. My scent. It must be horribly burned by now.
I’m shocked and a little offended that his isn’t. Nothing like the first time we met as mates, at Forever Matched, anyway. This is more…tingly. In a bad way. It makes my nose itch.
Embarrassment, I realize. Not stress or anger or shame. He’s just…embarrassed? By having a mistress?
Is she even a mistress? I’m not really this alpha’s omega. Maybe I’m the mistress?—
Smith guides the SUV off the road, slowing to a stop on the side of the highway and turning to face me completely. His low, even voice interrupts my spiral.
“Petal. Try not to panic. It…Irene isn’t a woman I’m seeing. She’s my teacher.”
I swear, you could hear a pin drop inside my head right now. Empty silence echoes back at me while that word swirls around.
Teacher? For what?
He clears his throat, which is his tell. He’s telling the truth, but he doesn’t like it. “After you moved in, I realized how little I knew about being the sort of alpha you deserved,” he says, quiet and gruff. “I decided I needed help.”
