Page 21 of Scheme
He grabbed Kit’s arm, attempting to drag him into the throng of gyrating club-goers as though I wasn’t right here, physically attached to him. Those pints had really taken hold—while Coleman had been growing increasingly dismissive over the course of the night, this was the most blatantly rude he’d been.
“I’m good, man.” Kit twisted his arm out of Coleman’s hold, pulling me a little closer to him in the process.
“Oh, come on, Kit. You used to love having a good time, and you’re just standing around here all alone.”Ouch.“Sinclair was so excited to meet you—”
Coleman reached for Kit again, but I stepped between them, pressing my back against Kit’s side. He was so much taller and broader than me, but there was a strange sense of calm that washed over my agitated nerves at the feeling of having him at my back.
“It’s pretty loud in here, maybe you didn’t hear him say no?”
Coleman’s cheerful expression contorted into something far less friendly when he looked at me. “Who even are you? I’m Kit’s closest friend, and I’ve never heard of you.”
Kit stiffened. “This isMargot, and you’re being unbelievably rude to her. We’re not going to dissect it now, though. Margot and I are leaving.”
He didn’t pause to say goodbye to his friends, just rested a hand on my hip and insistently steered me away from the dancefloor to the exit.
I stumbled along, the vehemence of his response taking me by surprise. “Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye to the others? I don’t mind waiting.”
“No.”
Okay then.
I pulled on the cardigan I’d had tied around my waist the moment we stepped outside, both Kit and I wrinkling our noses in disdain at the scents that clung to the fabrics we were wearing.
If nothing else, tonight had reminded me that I was ten years too old for clubbing.
“Everything okay?” I hedged, doing up my buttons. The moment I was done, Kit grabbed my hand again, not noticing the look of surprise on my face since he was already heading down the busy street, away from the club. I supposed there was always a chance that his friends had followed us out, which was probably why he wanted to maintain the ruse.
“No.”
“Want to grab a kebab?”
Kit paused mid-step. “Yes?”
“Oh good. I’m starving, and a late-night kebab is really the only good thing about being out after ten o’clock.”
I tugged on his hand, leading him in the direction of a kebab shop that was all cracked tiles and fluorescent lighting, and absolutely delicious, if my uni student memories served me correctly.
“Shit, it’s one am,” Kit said quietly. “I didn’t mean to keep you out so late.”
“It’s really fine, it’s not like I have work tomorrow. Or today, rather.”
Kit grunted, a sound he made a lot, I noticed. It was oddly endearing. “I knew they’d show up with someone—they always do, and they’re always kind of pushy—but that was… Fuck, they were sorude. I get that they were disappointed, they’d probably told that omega I was single and looking for a mate, but still. We should have left after that first drink.”
I privately disagreed that they were rude to me solely for Sinclair’s benefit, but whatever. They were Kit’s friends, and if he wanted to be friends with obnoxious assholes, that was his call. This was only a temporary thing, I didn’t have to get invested.
“It’s not a big deal, Kit.” I glanced around, making sure none of his friends had followed us. “You don’t have to protect my honour. The point of my presence is to make your life easier, not more difficult.”
“You did.”
He was definitely an alpha of few words, I thought as we queued up at the kebab shop, each ordering our chicken kebabs that he insisted on paying for as an unnecessary apology for how the night had gone.
We managed to crowd onto two stools at the counter, and I valiantly attempted to eat like a lady while sauce ran down to my wrists.
“This was a good idea,” Kit said, somewhat begrudgingly.
I hummed in agreement, swallowing my mouthful. “You don’t much like omegas, do you?”
Kit made a strangled sound, nearly dropping his kebab.
