Dance Around - Susi Hawke Page 0,17

Heart racing, I looked around at each of them. "Shit. I have to fix this, don't I? It's always been on me to make this right because I was the fucking idiot who screwed it up in the first place. And then I got stubborn and let pride keep me from facing it years ago. Oh my God, this is like one of those books I hate where the drama could've been solved with a simple conversation. Fuck me, Dear was on the money. I really am a fucking idiot. Listen, I gotta go!"

Ignoring the catcalls, cheers, and whistles behind me, I took off at a jog. Twenty-three years had been way too long and far too lonely without my true mate. This shit ended now. At least… it would if I could convince Gil to forgive me.

4

Gil

"There you go. One neat and tidy braid, as requested." Edgar sounded so damn cheerful I wanted to punch him.

I walked over to the mirror, frowning at my red face while I turned my head this way and that so I could inspect his French braid.

"Satisfied? Or do you want a hand mirror and a ruler to double-check my sectioning in the back where you can't see?" Edgar leaned against the bathroom doorway with his arms over his chest and a stupid smirk on his face.

"I'm tempted to take you up on your offer, just because you're on my last nerve. Thank you. It appears to be adequate." I was done talking and… huh. "Is it hot in here? I can't follow a single train of thought right now."

Ripping my shirt off, I tossed it to the floor and stalked out to the main room to check the thermostat. When I got a look at the display, I glared at the number with a huff. "Stupid magic island location. It's got to be fucking with the electronics. There's no way it's sixty-seven degrees in here."

"You sure? My hard nipples would beg to differ. Not for nothing, but I could probably cut glass with them." Edgar grabbed a handful of grapes from the abandoned service cart by the door before flopping onto the small couch. "How about you admit the truth instead? You're in heat, Gilligan."

I started to sit beside him, then bounced back up. "Shit, Edgar. Are you sure I'm the one you should be accusing? You're putting off enough body heat to melt an igloo."

"If I'm going into heat, then it'll be a bloody miracle, and I sure hope you'd have the presence of mind to alert the press." Edgar spoke in a droll tone, leaving unsaid the truth: he was a fucking alpha.

Obviously, I had to flip him off and stick my tongue out for good measure.

Chuckling, Edgar pointed at the chair across from him. "Quit pacing and park your ass over there. You're making me tired."

Rolling my eyes, I heaved a sigh and dropped into the chair at an angle with one leg hanging over the side. Toying with the end of my braid, I chewed my lip and considered my symptoms.

"Goddamnit, you're right. I am going into heat, aren't I? I haven't had one in so long. I forgot what having my body turn into a raging inferno felt like."

Edgar had the grace to look concerned. "Are you going to be okay? We're a long distance from the comforts of home. What happened, anyway? Did you finally take my advice and skip the damn shot? I don't care how safe they say it is. The drug hasn't been around long enough for any long-term studies. It doesn't seem healthy for an omega to go so many years without having a heat cycle. What if it makes you infertile?"

"Ew! Don’t talk about my fertility, Edgar. Gross. And quit rambling. And lecturing. And being so fucking preachy." Turning sideways, I put both legs over the chair and tilted my head back over the opposite side. The ceiling was a better view than my brother's face at the moment. "And no, I most certainly did not take your advice. In fact, I had my annual shot three months ago. There's no way it should be wearing off this soon, so something is wrong."

"Maybe it was a bad lot? It happens, I suppose."

"Maybe. Or maybe my body has built up a tolerance. The doctor warned me it could happen eventually. Or… maybe one of those magic wielders put a hex on me. Or—and this is more likely the reason—the doctor gave me the