Page 19 of Violet

She starts to stretch.

Anyone else and I’d think they were showing off, doing a strange mating dance, but she isn’t. This is for her, and it’s like I stop existing while she does it.

Stop existing because she’s taking up all the space.

I’m still trying to sort out how I can make out her scent, especially when it’s clear she’s wearing a blocker. Maybe it’s because she’s been working out and sweating, but whatever it is, the floral smell is invading my senses. Especially with her being so close to me.

“Do you have a name?” I ask when she finishes her stretches.

She spins to face me, and her eyes are wide like I just gave her an electric shock. “Do you?”

“I do.”

“Me too.”

She leans on the seat built into the wall opposite and breathes in, closing her eyes now, and lifting her face to the soft breeze.

I was right. The girl—woman—is an Omega. Along with the regal lines of her face and where she is, I can put together that she’s also upper-class, probably part of the fucking Season since she doesn’t look any older than twenty-one.

The rich sable shade of her hair reminds me ofsomeone, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Your first Season?”

Startled, she looks at me. “You’re not from here.”

“I am.”

“But you haven’t been here in a long time.” At my arched brow, she shrugs as she threads her fingers together. “I mean, you’re clearly rich. Your coat, your demeanor.”

And I’m famous.

But she doesn’t say it.

If she wants to play coy, I’ll let her. It’s nice actually, not to be fawned over or have my stage name blurted at me. Like that blonde I fucked did.

“Guilty. And you…” I smile. “Does anyone know where you were tonight?”

The girl gasps. “No. I… How did you…”

“I won’t tell,” I say. “Just curious.”

“Why would you be curious about me? I’m not interesting enough to be curious about.”

Oh, Sophine will love this one. She’s so polite she might choke on her manners, and I can see her being the perfect Omega, making her family proud. And yet behind it is a secret, like she’s got a rebel heart beating away inside her.

“Oh, I think you might be interesting. What’s your dark secret?”

She flashes me a scandalized look. “I don’t have any dark secrets. Not even beige ones.”

“I saw you downtown,” I say, leaning in.

She goes completely still. “No, you didn’t.”

“Relax, I’m not after shit. I’ve got enough complications, so you’re safe. Besides, you know who I am.”

“No,” she says, “I don’t.”

She is stillpretending. Interesting, indeed.

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