Page 2 of The Omega Verse

“I was about to,” I fib, but he’s already squeezing a little of the blood out and soaping the wound under warm water. It all stings worse than the cut itself, but I know better than to argue with him when he’s in this mood.

“I can stitch it or fix it the old-fashioned way,” he tells me as he inspects it again. When he lifts his chin, there’s a darker light in his eyes, turning them the colour of an espresso. “Let me fix it, Cass.”

I nod before I think about it, because that’s my usual reaction to Tom. Even though I pride myself on sorting out my own shit, when my best friend offers his help, I always seem to grab it in both hands. Or, as in this instance, put myself very firmly in his hands, to do with as he wishes. “I think there’s a needle in the medical kit...”

But the sentence unravels into a gasp, because, to my complete and utter shock, Tom has sucked my wounded finger between his lips. As his warm tongue slides around the injured pad, it takes a moment for my stunned brain to realise what he’s doing. Alpha juice. The highly stimulating healing secretions of alphas…

“Oh God,” I groan under my breath as he sucks it deeper, the firm muscle of his tongue working my finger against the roof of his mouth. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Yes, I’ve kissed, I’ve fucked, and done most of the other intimate things a twenty-five-year-old gets up to… But now my skin is almost sizzling, with a teasing, sucking pressure I can feel echoing between my thighs…

But right as a shivery moan is working its way up my throat, Tom releases my finger with a pop. It’s not easy keeping the disappointment off my face as he inspects the slick tip, and I blink, trying to reset my bearings.

This is Tom. My best friend. My platonic best friend.

“How did you do it?” he demands as I finally pull away. One quick glance tells me the finger is still slightly pink, but I don’t know if that’s from the wound or the inferno burning under my skin. “Did something happen? Your scent is…sour.”

Exactly what every girl wants to hear after the most attractive alpha in a hundred-mile radius has just been juicing her finger.

“I’m just tense,” I murmur as I change my apron and get busy wiping down the bench. The ruined pastry goes into the bin, but before I can start another batch, Tom slides a plastic-coated pass onto the clean counter. It’s black with a sinking sun and the letters V.I.P. blazoned on the front.

“Holy shit!” I stare down at the backstage pass, my hands trembling for a different reason now. “Is this real?”

Tom grunts. “Of course. I wouldn’t get your hopes up otherwise.”

“But how?” I blink at him in shock. “I couldn’t even get a ticket to the show, let alone a VIP pass.”

“My mate came through.” Tom gives a shrug, but I can feel the tension under the careless gesture. He was a soldier before he became a paramedic, and he only turns to his mysterious army buddies when he needs a favour he can’t get anywhere else. “It’s legit, but he couldn’t get your name on the official register. There’s a security guard who’ll meet you at a side entrance and take you through. Best we could do.”

“It’s great. You’re amazing!” I throw myself at Tom, all the stress of the last few weeks bleeding away as his arms wrap around me.

There’s a stiffness in his wide frame before he slowly relaxes against me. No doubt because I’ve been a complete nightmare since The Sundowners announced a one-off tribute concert for Steven. Despite the draw of bigger cities, the band decided to hold it in Perth, my brother’s hometown, and the demand was so high they literally broke the ticketing system. God knows what Tom had to promise his friend in return for an elusive backstage pass, but I vow to make it up to him. Starting with a coffee, as many pastries as he wants, and a hug tight enough to squeeze even his giant frame.

But when I try to pull back, he tips up my chin, his brown eyes guarded. “You really want to do this? It’s a long bus ride, and I could probably get my mate to find out anything you want to know about your brother.”

But I’m already shaking my head. “No, I want to talk to them. They were his bandmates for a long time, and the lead singer was his best friend. They must know the real Steven… and this might be the only chance I get to ask them.”

I’ve done enough research to know that the band doesn’t live here anymore, but has houses in Europe and the US. Since this is an impromptu concert to pay tribute to my brother, they have no plans to hang around once it’s done, and will probably leave the country right away.

And given what Dusty just said about the band breaking up, who knows when I’ll get another chance to ask them about Steven?

Tom is still holding me loosely in his arms, but I can feel the tension bleeding back into his limbs. “I wish I could swap shifts and come with you, but the surf competition has us stretched.” Unlike the rest of Sandy Bay, who gets a kick out of the annual ten-day event, Tom treats the influx of surfers and their fans like an invading army. “But I got you a hotel room not far from the arena. The bus ticket is a round trip, and I’ve booked you a seat on the first one out tomorrow.”

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him I can take care of that stuff myself, but if I’m honest, I kind of like it when he goes into mother hen mode. I never had one of my own, and as much as Cookie took care of me, her love language was food, not gestures.

Still, I have a reputation to uphold, and I shoot him a challenging look from under my lashes. “I appreciate it, but you know I can look after myself, Tom.”

“Never doubt it for a moment, Cass.” Something dark flashes in his eyes and then he tips my chin up again, only this time he kisses me hard on the lips. His mouth is gone before I can respond, but I’m so surprised I take a step back and nearly send a tray of sausage rolls flying. “What was that for?”

Tom swipes a thumb across his lips and I wonder if the kiss tasted as good to him as it did to me. “Just a reminder I’m here if you need me.”

It’s no hardship to stare at the man, but I find my gaze cutting away from him as I murmur, “I’m just going to a concert, Tom.”

“Yeah, but I need you to be careful, okay? Rockstars aren’t normal people. And I don’t want them turning your head with all their…”

Words seem to fail him, and my lips quirk. The mighty Tom Bush takes all manner of calamity in his stride, but the thought of me hanging out with a bunch of musicians seems to leave him speechless. “Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll?”

He grunts, but then reaches out to stroke my cheek. Tom has alpha energy to spare, and as a beta, it doesn’t affect me like the omegas I see around town. But there’s no hiding the shiver his touch sends down my spine as his finger travels down the curve of my cheek and comes to rest in the dimple in my chin. “I was going to say the seedy underbelly of the music industry, but yeah. Just watch yourself, Cass. These guys aren’t your brother. And from what my mate has heard, the band is a mess right now. You don’t want to get caught up in that.”

My stomach clenches in disappointment. After what Dusty said, it’s looking increasingly likely that the sun really is going down on my brother’s band.

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