Page 5 of Follow the Rhythm (Fairview City Omegaverse #2)

A ustin had told me to “look hot” for their surprise outing, but my options were limited since I had to hide a necklace of bruises.

I opted for a black corset top with long sleeves and a high lace collar that covered up most of them.

I also put on my knee-high Docs and tiny leather shorts because… why not? If Charlie was good for anything other than a mind-blowing orgasm, it was an ego boost.

I took a picture of my outfit in the mirror and sent it to him before I could think too much about it. He responded as I was putting on my lipstick.

‘I’m about to go to a very important work thing . This might be the meanest thing you’ve done to me yet,’ his text read.

‘Oh, poor baby,’ I replied.

‘Can I come over soon? See those boots in person?’

‘Enjoy your work thing,’ I sent back, right as Austin knocked on my door. They were wearing a cropped vest top that showed off their top surgery scars and high-waisted black pants, and they'd slicked their red hair back from their forehead with some kind of shiny pomade.

“Is that a hickey?” Austin said when I let them in, homing in on my neck.

“Fuck,” I whispered and hurried back to the mirror. I swiped some concealer over the bruise peeking above the collar, but it didn’t hide it completely.

Austin pulled the lace down to see my neck. “Holy shit, did you get mauled? Please tell me you reported this guy,” they said, wide-eyed.

I blushed and batted their hand away. “It was consensual,” I said primly. “And also none of your business.”

Austin goggled at me. “Since when do you like being marked?”

“None of your business!” I trilled and sprayed myself with a shocking amount of descenter.

Since I’d just had my heat, my scent was at its calmest, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Now, let’s get this over with. Am I overdressed for your role-playing game party?

Mixology class for Lord of the Rings-themed cocktails? ”

“You’re never going to guess, so I’d just stop trying,” they said and followed me out the door.

We arrived at a seedy-looking club that, since it was in one of the trendiest neighborhoods of the city, was actually probably owned by a venture capitalist or a senator. There was already a line of people waiting to get in.

“I did not sign up for this,” I grumbled, looking at the line. At least my Docs were comfortable.

Austin grabbed my hand and led me to the front of the line. The bouncer looked appreciatively at me, and I scowled.

“Names?” he asked, turning his attention to Austin.

“Austin Ridgefield and Jessica Moretti.”

We passed over our IDs, and he inspected mine closely, no doubt clocking the “Omega” designation, before waving us inside.

“Since when are you on the list at hot nightclubs?” I asked.

“I contain multitudes,” they replied.

The club wasn’t pumping in descenters, so the mix of scents was chaotic, but I had learned to fight the discomfort. We made our way to the bar and grabbed drinks. My plastic cup of hot red wine cost way too much, and I chugged it immediately before it could get even more vile.

It was a rock club, and the music was decent. There was a stage at one end of the room that was clearly set up for a band to perform. My mind flashed back to the last time Austin had taken me to see live music, and it had been something called “polka core.”

I groaned and leaned over to yell in Austin’s ear. “Are you making me watch one of your friend’s shitty bands again?”

“Just wait,” they replied with a mysterious smile.

We made our way closer to the stage. I was very glad for the extra few inches my boots gave me, so I wasn’t lost in the crowd.

Austin grilled me about my heat partner as we waited for the show to start. I refused to give too many details, but when I admitted we’d exchanged numbers, Austin looked alarmed.

“You’re willingly seeing the same Alpha again?”

“It’s not like that,” I protested. “It’s a friends with benefits situation.”

They shook their head. “Yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that. Alphas and Omegas don’t do ‘friends with benefits’ situations for a reason. You’re gonna end up bonded to a hot idiot, and I will have no sympathy for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “To be fair, I don’t think he’s actually an idiot.”

“You’re defending him now?” They shook their head, looking tragic. “You’re totally fucked.”

Before I could respond, the lights dimmed and the house music cut off. The crowd whooped half-heartedly as the band trooped onstage in the dark.

The bass line for “Bleach” off of Velvet Howl’s second album, Home of the Free , started up, and I clapped a few times along with the rest of the crowd. If I had to listen to a cover band in a pretentious, pretend-grunge club, at least they had good taste.

When the drums kicked in, the house lights came up.

I nearly passed out. It wasn’t a cover band.

It was Velvet Howl, in the flesh, and about 20 feet away from me.

My body went hot, then cold, and my heart was pounding like the frenetic kick drum onstage.

Based on the crowd’s reaction, I wasn’t the only one surprised.

Ellis Fox launched into the verse, his voice as incredible as on every album I’d listened to a million times, or heard in person when he forced me to give him feedback before a vocal assessment at St. Hildegard's.

I was frozen. It was the closest I’d been to him in nine years. For a moment, I couldn’t move or breathe. All I could do was stare at him, drinking in the lines of his face as he sang. A strange sense of vertigo hit me, and I clutched Austin’s arm for support.

“I told you you’d like it,” Austin yelled, beaming.

As Ellis growled his way into the chorus, I shook off my shock. There’s no way he’d see me from the stage, or even care if I was there if he did. He’d made that abundantly clear.

Well, fuck that and fuck him. I’d enjoy the show out of pure spite.

“Fairview City, how are ya tonight?” Ellis yelled into the mic, adjusting his guitar strap.

The crowd roared back, and he smiled, urging us on with his hands.

Kieran, the bass player, strummed a few chords.

He was huge and looked a bit like a Viking - if Vikings wore vintage Levi’s and leather jackets.

And he reportedly gave Ellis a run for his money on alleged sexual conquests, if you could believe Reddit. Seeing him in the flesh, I believed it.

I forced myself not to stare at Ellis and instead stood on my tiptoes to see who was on the drums. Their original drummer had passed away about a year before, and Velvet Howl hadn’t performed publicly since.

I was surprised and impressed to see a woman at the drum kit.

She was blond, with one side of her hair shaved close to her scalp.

Her delicate features ?contrasted with her muscular arms that she was showing off in a cut-off muscle tank.

She looked weirdly familiar. And of course, she caught me staring at her and broke into a huge smile.

“Who is that?” I asked Austin as the band started playing “Les Yeux Verts.”

“That is my fucking sister !” Austin yelled, and the drummer pointed her stick right at them before launching into the breakdown.

I gaped at Austin, bouncing on my toes along to the beat. No wonder she looked familiar. They did have the same elfin look.

I lost myself in the music. If I pretended I was at home, I could ignore the fact that Ellis Fox was in the same room and just dance and sing along with the lyrics to the songs that had kept me going for the last 8 years.

They closed with “Kilojoule” and the crowd went wild, myself included. Austin grabbed my hand, and we jumped like maniacs, screaming the chorus at the top of our lungs. It was the most I’d let loose in a long time.

As the band left the stage, Austin squeezed my hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”

“Don’t brag; it’s unattractive. But that was a really good surprise. And what the hell! I thought your sister was out in L.A. with that punk band.”

“She’s a temporary member, something about a tour contract, I don’t know.

But come on, the surprise isn’t over yet,” Austin said as the house music picked back up and a crew started breaking down the stage.

The crowd finally accepted there wouldn’t be an encore and filtered back to the bar or outside for a smoke break. Austin pulled me closer to the stage.

“Are The Beatles about to pop out?” I joked.

“We’re going backstage,” Austin said with a smug smile, sending a text before they led me to the side of the room where a group was already clustered, trying to convince the security guard to let them backstage.

“Whoa. No, no, no,” I said desperately, digging in my heels. Unfortunately, Austin was taller and stronger than me, so it didn’t work. “I can’t.”

“What, why? I want you to meet Grace,” they said.

“I just… I can’t…” I said feebly. “I don’t want to go back there. Can’t she come out here?”

“Come on, you’re being weird.” They hauled me forward. Their sister, Grace, popped her head out from behind a black curtain and indicated us to the security guard. He let us pass, and the rest of the crowd booed. I flipped them off on pure instinct.

We passed through the curtain. I got only an impression of the hallway beyond - hardwood floors and exposed brick - before I was almost knocked off my feet.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” Grace had Austin and me in a hug that felt more like a sweaty double headlock. Her amber scent was pleasant, but not overpowering; she was a Beta like Austin.

“Hi,” Austin said, their voice strangled, and Grace released us.

“Hey,” I said warily. I scanned the hallway behind her for any sign of Ellis, my heart pounding, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“You were amazing,” Austin said, squeezing Grace’s face between their hands and pushing her cheeks forward. Grace was beaming.

“Ahhh, thank you, I’m still buzzing.” She held out her hands, which were shaking as much as mine were. “I’m Grace, by the way. It’s so great to finally meet you!”