Page 10 of Hidden Fates

If Caleb is meant to be mine, they’ll accept him too.

“I love you,” I mouth as they walk away. Bellamy blows me a kiss as he walks backward onto the stage, but then their focus shifts to the crowd.

Roars of adoration fill the air as the lights raise and Sterling takes the mic. “Portland, shit’s about to get heavy. Are you ready?”

Part of me feels bad for missing the start of their set, but I sneak away while I have the courage. Quentin stands a few feet down the hall as I stop in front of Orbital Somatic’s dressing room.

This is it. Time to face my first love and see if that spark of hope can grow into a blaze.

My heart thumps wildly as I knock on the door. It isn’t Caleb or one of his bandmates who answers, but a tall, curly-haired Omega. She looks amazing in a bubblegum pink pantsuit with the cutest butterfly heels. I want to ask where she got them, but she darts a glance over her shoulder and asks, “Do you want to come in?”

Was she getting the band’s permission?

If so, that means Caleb gave it. He might want to see me?

“Yes, please.”

I nearly trip over my feet, too busy staring at Caleb to watch where I’m walking. He’s here. Sitting right in front of me. The sides of his cut-off gape open, and he presses a water bottle to his head to cool off.

A layer of sweat soaks his skin, amplifying his scent. It’s headier. Soft, spicy, and confident. Like curling up beneath my favorite blanket after a heat.

“Hello Caleb, Orbital Somatic.”

Nervousness churns my stomach, growing in strength until I feel like I might tip into a panic attack. The combination has me word-vomiting, my face growing redder as embarrassment seeps in.

“I loved your show. Your music speaks to my soul. So deep and rhythmic, with the grungy undertones that make it metal. I still have goosebumps.”

Lifting my arm, I show them the raised hairs there. They glance at each other, puzzled expressions on their faces. Way to go, Skye, you’re going to scare him away before you can ask them to join you at the club tonight.

“Oh, right. I came to invite you to hang out with us after the show, not to fan-girl over your music. Sorry.”

Caleb’s face remains blank.

What is he thinking? Does he want me here?

Or is he secretly wishing I would shut up and leave?

Oh, Fates, why did I think this was a good idea?

Chapter Four

Sweet-fucking-Fates, this is not happening.

I did not just come in my pants.

While I was performing on stage.

Bea claps from the wings as we walk off stage, waving to the fans. I can’t focus on anything but the Fatesdamned mess coating my thigh.

What happened out there? I love music, and, sure, it sometimes turns me on when I’m performing, but I’ve never actually came. The dull pulse of arousal I normally feel was amplified a hundredfold.

Staring at my face in the mirror, I sigh and push away from the sink. There’s no use in questioning it. Why would crazed arousal be any different from the joyous highs or depressive lows my body fluctuates through?

I should probably see a doctor and find out what’s wrong with my brain chemistry that makes my emotions feel so out of control and overwhelming, but trying to explain it to someone else is exhausting.

Sweat still trickles down my neck, so I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge and collapse on an empty chair, pressing the cold against my head to steal some of the heat. A shower and a nap are calling my name as soon as we’re able to get out of here.

My inner Alpha bristles at the thought of leaving when she is here. Skye Pierce.