Page 33 of Scheme
“Okay.”
I didn’t ask and I don’t care, I told myself firmly. Except I had been alittlecurious, wondering if Kit was looking for a replacement fake omega for his social engagements.
Kit looked like he wanted to say more, but I slipped easily into the crowd at the station, attempting to shake him off as I headed down the stairs to the platform. I weaved through the waiting passengers, tying my hair in a low bun in case Kit was looking for my blonde waves, before ducking onto the farthest carriage the moment the train pulled up. Maybe I was being immature—it wasn’t like it was going to do me any harm to stand next to him on the train for five minutes—but the accusations he’d made against me had been weighing heavily on my mind for the past three days, and the deadline Dad had set for me was still looming.
I’d been so careful foryearsin my interactions with alphas. The ones I spent any degree of time with were mated and, therefore, more interested inwhoI was rather thanwhatI was. The unmated ones who attended Bryce and Kane’s parties were there to fuck, not talk, and so long as I had all the requisite omega parts they were interested in, that was all that mattered. So long as they had functioning knots and kept their teeth to themselves, that was all that mattered tome.
Kit didn’t fit neatly into either of those boxes, and spending time with him had reminded me why I strictly kept to those parameters.
Not keeping to those boundaries only led to trouble.
I wasn’t entirely surprised to find Kit waiting at the top of the stairs when I disembarked, a surly look on his face. Alphas didn’t like to be given the slip.
“Can I apologise, Margot?” he asked, keeping up with me easily as I made my way out of the station.
“If it’ll make you feel better.”
“I don’t want to makemefeel better. I want to makeyoufeel better.”
“And you think an apology will do that?”
Kit made a strangled sound, weaving around a small crowd of women chatting on the pavement before catching up to me again.
“You can stop scentmarking my house, by the way,” I told him over my shoulder. “I don’t intend to honour my side of the deal, you don’t need to bother with yours.”
“I disagree.”
“That’s very on-brand for you.”
I’d rather show up at Nana’s party with Jimmy and figure out a way to get rid of him afterwards than sacrifice my pride for Kit’s help.
The crowd thinned out as we moved further away from the shops along the high street. Kit all but plastered himself to my side, just a hair’s breadth of space between our arms.
“The moment I said all that stuff, I realised it was ridiculous. Some of the matchmaking stuff in the past… It’s been a little more insidious than what you saw the other night. But you’re not like that—most people aren’t like that—it was wrong of me to project that on you.”
“It was,” I agreed, though his admission did soften me up a little.
“Can we start over?” Kit asked, gently pulling me to a stop. The puppy dog eyes were working a little harder now. “Hi, I’m Kit Iyer. Travel photographer, alpha, idiot who puts his foot in his mouth sometimes.”
I gave him a long look. “Hi Kit. I’m Margot Bailey, omega going into heat soon who has no interest in being claimed by an alpha.”
He winced. “Good to know.”
“Let’s just… leave it there for now, okay?” I sighed.
Kit nodded, looking dejected. “For now.”
Chapter 9
“Yousureyouwon’tcome for dinner?” Violet asked, already dressed and drying her hair from the shower after our particularly intense yoga class. Or maybe I just found it intense because it was getting to the pre-heat point where I really needed to ease off the exercise.
“I’m sure,” I replied with my most dazzling smile, still wrapped in just a towel as I doused my limbs in Om-Guard. “I promised Michelle I’d come by and help out with the kids; her mother-in-law’s car broke down and Michelle is at her wit’s end having to chauffeur her everywhere.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Violet wasn’t as good a liar as I was, she couldn’t quite keep the hurt out of her voice and I felt terrible about it. While we’d never explicitly stated it, my going to her place after yoga every Monday was sort of a tradition at this point. “It’s just that you didn’t come last week either,” Violet hedged after a moment’s silence, looking away as I pulled on my clothes, dressing for comfort rather than style to go to be clambered on by Michelle’s children.
“I know, I’m sorry. Work has been—”
“Busy, yeah you said. Though you usually wind down this time of year with your heat approaching. Not that you’ve mentioned that, but Kit did say it was coming soon,” she interjected, faintly accusatory.
