Rejection: The Last DanceChapter 1
“They certainly love each other, don’t they?” I compelled myself not to glare at Beta Homer as his words hit close to home.
I crossed my arms, a displeased grin split my lips. “Oh, they’ve been doing that many times that I felt like the Alpha’s personal Omega rather than the actual Alpha’s girlfriend.
Alpha Jonathan, my boyfriend of four years, is dancing closely with Emilia, another Beta’s daughter. Though Emilia and I both came from a prestigious Beta family, she happens to be the one closer to the Alpha because of their childhood friendship.
I returned my eyes to them, dancing on the floor to the sway of melancholic music. My gaze was nothing short of amused.
A heartbeat later, the music and dancing ended. They strode to my table, where Beta Homer and I are sharing a bottle of champagne along with a conversation that only happens when either of us is drunk.
“I’m surprised you didn’t kissed Emilia?” I asked as Jonathan’s eyes darkened when he found me sitting on a chair in a vulgar position.
“We’re just playing a game, babe,” he explained gently, trying to portray himself as the ever-humble gentleman. “Besides, you’re drunk more than usual today.”
I shrugged, “Can’t I just celebrate anytime I’d like? Just as you two cuddle each other anytime even when your girlfriend is here.”
“It’s just a dance, Anastasia,” Emilia chirped behind him, her face the perfect portrait of boredom.
“And do dance partners lean into each other and whisper lovingly?” I raised a glass of champagne before sipping it half.
Both of them were silent so I filled their glasses with the liquor. When I lifted my gaze, the Alpha’s face contorted to embarrassment—to disdain.
“I told you. Emilia and I are just friends. There’s nothing between us,” his tone was both soft and echoing with warning.
I ignored that warning.
“If there’s nothing between you then you two won’t be friends,” I made my sickly sweet smile be at the frontline of my expression.
As anticipated, Emilia slammed a hand on the table but not enough to rattle the glasses. “Why do you always create drama every time Jon and I are together? Can’t a female just spend time with her male bestfriend?!”
“Oh, you can...” I drawled, “As long as that male doesn’t have a girlfriend watching both of you one breath away from kissing.”