Page 51 of Scheme
“Thanks for the ride,” I said awkwardly, having never once felt awkward around Nico and Violet before.
Violet twisted in her seat, giving me one of those radiant smiles that felt like a warm hug. “We love you, Margot. You can stop looking at us like we’re about to bring a guillotine down on your neck at any moment.”
Nico snorted. “We’re also not at all surprised, just so you know. It was pretty obvious to anyone with functioning eyeballs or olfactory senses that this was going to happen, it was only a matter of time.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working,” I told him tartly, blowing Violet a kiss before getting out of the car.
Had I been making moon eyes at Kit this whole time? What a mortifying thought.
Kit was waiting on the stoop, the automatic light that hadn’t worked for months suddenly functioning again. Huh. Maybe Lawrence had fixed it? The Clarksons never left the house after six pm, I’d be surprised if they even noticed it wasn’t working.
“Are you okay?” Kit asked, giving me a slightly unnerving stare as he handed me my bag.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m fine. Better than fine, even. That’s what a few good orgasms do to you.” I was babbling. No, I’d gone right past babbling into some heretofore-unknown stage of humiliating chitchat. “Anyway, thanks for, you know. All the orgasms. And I’ll see you… later. We still have to talk about my underwear. Okay, never mind, bye.”
My fingers fumbled with the keys, and Kit made a quick rescue before they fell to the ground.
“Here,” he said softly, leaning into my personal space to unlock the door, smelling unfairly tempting. He brushed the faintest hint of a kiss over my cheek as he pulled back, so light I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Goodnight, Margot.”
Kit was looking at me like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to stay or go, but he seemed torn about it. As though hewantedto know what the right choice was, but felt ill-equipped to make it.
It made something in my chest tighten.
Get your shit together, Margot. You have come too far to lose your head over an alpha.
I twisted to face him, giving him a breezy smile as I hooked my finger in the pocket of his jeans, snagging the lace of my knickers and pulling them free, feeling a flash of victory at the slightly crestfallen look he tried valiantly to cover up.
“‘Night, Kit.”
By the morning, I felt like myself again. After coffee, I got in the shower and all but boiled my skin off before slathering a borderline uncomfortably thick layer of Om-Guard on every inch of my body that I could reach.
The reason I went to Bryce and Kane’s parties was because sex made all the omega parts of me relaxed and happy. I was never feeling the potent impact of fucking an alpha more than I was at this exact moment. Kit hadn’t evenknottedme. He probably had magic jizz. Why not? He was a freaking catch in every other way, why not have super powerful relaxant cum too?
I tipped my head forward to wrap it in a drying cloth, twisting the material into place before grabbing my buzzing phone off the bed.
Kit: Good morning.
…A good morning message? He’d sent me agood morningmessage?
Was he trying to make sure there was no awkwardness after last night?
Was itflirty? He had mentioned last night being ourfirsttime, which would implymoretimes…
What did itmean?
For the first time in my life, I was thrown back to the early days of exchanging flirty messages with the cute alpha boy who’d just moved in next door. The vaguest flutter of a butterfly wing attempted to get off the ground in my belly, and I sent as many murderous thoughts toward it as I could.
That’s not what this is. This isn’t the start of something. There is no need for butterflies here, thank you very much.
Me: Good morning.
There. Done.
There was no lingering awkwardness now. We’d messaged each other, we’d made contact, and now our relationship could return to what it had been before last night.
Kit: What are you doing today?
What the fuck was he playing at? If Kit was trying to act normally, he was failing miserably. I twisted from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in my spine while I typed, deleted, then retyped a reply.
