Kai frowns but slowly shakes his head.“It just slipped out naturally. Didn’t realize until it was far too late. Played it off so she wouldn’t perceive me as weird.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t judge you one bit. Did you see the way she looked at you with admiration? It was hot. Like she was damn proud you’re from the Yakuza and carrying on the family legacy. Shouldn’t she be frightened and shit?”
“She can fight. Why would she be afraid?” Icarus notes, drawing our attention with something none of us know about.
“What you mean she can fight?” Kenji inquires in curiosity.
“She’s into kickboxing. Looks like she could be professional, but then again, I doubt there’s much opportunity for Omegas,” Icarus confesses. “I met her at Knox’s Gym. That’s where we first interacted.”
“When was this?” Kai asks with a slight eyebrow raise. “You would have told us this if you thought she could be a potential Omega for our pack.”
“It didn’t cross my mind,” Icarus admits. I can tell he’s being truthful because he’s not backing down from any of our stares. “Figured watching her movements would be the best bet at first.”
“Meaning you already have her location locked and eyes on her house, 24/7, don’t you?” Kai concludes. He’s not even questioning it. He knows it’s been done. “So, you were going to tell us after the Meet and Greet.”
“Figured it would be the best time, too, if we didn’t find an Omega at this meet. We didn’t,” he summarizes but looks over toKenji. “But why do you have a nickname for her when you just met her?”
“We didn’t just meet her,” Kenji reveals and points to Kai and then himself. “She was at the Meet and Greet. I passed by her table, and we exchanged a bit of words. The other pack was giving the impression they were gonna swoop her off her feet despite them losing their ranks or some crazy shit due to bankruptcy. It was a whole scene, but yeah. She left afterward, so I assumed we’d never see her again. Kai was doing his whole ‘observing the room’ duties, but I’m sure he saw her, right Kai?”
“Mhm,” Kai responds.
Honestly, he’s talked more today than I’ve heard in months.He always speaks when Kenji asks and, on occasion with Icarus, but conversations with me are only out of spite or frustration.
He simply hates my guts, but we’ve known each other for so long, I have no choice but to continue to be his friend, especially with how entwined we are with Icarus and Kenji in the crew. Maybe it’s not a friendship right now due to our behavior toward one another, but life has been too chaotic for me to focus on fixing whatever this is.
“Why did you bring her to the tour bus, Icarus?” Kenji asks and smirks. “Aside from fucking.”
So, they did fuck…
“It wasn’t my intention,” Icarus admits as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He’s about to pull one out when there’s a knock on the tour bus door. “Hold on. That’s breakfast.”
We let him go to accept the food, which is surprisingly from security—meaning Icarus called the night security to keep the bus protected for the entire night.
He only does that when there’s a risk of us getting hurt in a certain location.
To go all the way to having security on standby for this Omega is making me realize how bad this is. How much harder it’s going to be to get rid of her.
It’s as if she has them wrapped under some pussy spell or some shit.
It makes me grit my teeth just thinking about it.
When Icarus returns with a tray of coffees and bags of food, Kenji and Kai move in to get everything sorted, leaving me just… standing there.
There’s something about this morning that makes me feel out of place.
Or maybe it’s always been like this, and I simply never noticed.
Icarus is the one to come over and give me some coffee and my breakfast.
“Sunnyside, salt and pepper, brown toast, orange marmalade jam, three sausages well done,” he elaborates. “And black coffee, seeing as you’re not hungover enough to care if it’s sweet or not.”
I groan but accept it.
“I wonder whose fault that is,” I huff, feeling the need to validate why my morning is shit. A good morning is me waking up to a banging headache because I had the craziest night of fucking, smoking, drinking, and doing every sinful thing on the tour bus. Sometimes, we do sex hotels, but I try to avoid them because they can become a bit messy if you don’t avoid paparazzi in time.
“Not mine,” Icarus huffs. Slipping his pack of cigarettes into his pocket, he opts for his coffee, which I’m sure is either super sweet or has far too much cream. For someone so focused on his damn physique, the guy has a dangerous sweet tooth.
Then again, who am I to judge? I’m the one with the smoking, drinking, drug everything addictions.