“Don’t give me that bullshit. Alphas always say they can smell what omegas need, and I’m sick of it. You don’t know the first thing about being in heat. I have it handled. Does that bruise your pretty alpha ego, princess?”
Her palm is suddenly across my chest, her growl in my ear. The elevator wall slams hard against my shoulders and skull, and the sharp ring of metal startles both of us.
She snaps her hand back as if bitten, and I rub the back of my head.
“Ow! What the fuck, Christine?!”
When the doors open, she stalks out with an almost inaudible, “You can be a real ass sometimes.”
I follow. “Me?! Christine, you can’t just?—”
She ignores me. And continues to do so until she reaches the front drive of the hotel, opens the door to her car, and ushers me inside.
I huff and scoot over, making room for her.
When she doesn’t follow, I look up at her expectantly.
Her eyes are on Ollie, her expression calm and friendly. “Take him in for me, will you? I’ll catch up, don’t worry about me.”
“No worries. G’mornin’, Mylo.”
Christine shuts the car door.
“Morning,” I mutter, watching her walk away.
This is good. I should be happy to dodge an awkward car ride with her. But I just feel…annoyed.
Annoyed and horny.
Fuck, I’m going to have to find her this afternoon after all…
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
CHRISTINE
I need to pick a fight.Run a marathon. Throw a bus.
Something. Anything.
I settle on a brisk jog, vaguely in the direction of the sound studio. I’ll call Ollie if I get bored.
It’s good Mylo pissed me off, because it was a lot easier to close him in the car than it would’ve been to share it with Ollie the whole way. And the poor old Kiwi doesn’t deserve any more fallout from my mood.
I don’t like other people talking to Mylo, looking at him, touching him.
And I don’t like myself when I feel that way.
It’s easy enough to avoid him until that sweet candied orange scent hits my nose, telling me he needs me. It might be all in my head, but I swear he tastes like creamsicle.
Mylo’s damn lucky there aren’t any other alphas on set, because there’s no way I could hide it from them. Even justjogging past a bound alpha pushing his kid in a stroller across the street, my hackles rise.
He glances at me, scenting territorial alpha on the wind, and I want to whirl toward him and snarl.
Instead, I push myself to run faster, putting distance between us.
I close my eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the movement in my body.
