Page 36 of Alpha Ruined
When she successfully unlocks the door and steps inside, she texts Darlene to let her know she made it home okay. It was barely a five-minute walk to Darlene’s place, and it was in the daytime, but her new friend still insisted.
She pours herself a glass of water, then heads upstairs torelax. Collapsing on the bed, she closes her eyes and tries to doze.
But her mind is too preoccupied with thoughts of Cole.
She wonders where they would have had dinner. She wonders what their conversation would have been like.
He had offered to discuss her article with her—would he have been genuinely interested?
She still doesn’t know why he was at the prison that day—maybe, if she had asked him over dinner, he would have told her.
It doesn’t help that his scent still lingers in her memory.
She’ll miss it. It will be the scent she imagines the next time she touches herself?—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Her eyes snap open and she sits up at the sudden noise.
She peers out at the window despite already knowing who is at the door.
A sleek black car sits next to hers in the driveway—there’s only one person it could belong to.
Even as her heart thuds excitedly in her chest, she chooses to ignore the knocking and flop back down onto the bed, sighing as her head hits the pillow.
If she closes her eyes, he’ll go away, even if she secretly doesn’t want him to.
Tipsy Bree likes being pursued. Tipsy Bree is honored that he’s put in this much work just for a date.
But sober Bree never told him her address.
She sits back up with a start, inhibitions disappearing as she thunders down the stairs, ready to confront him.
How does he know her address?
She unlocks the door, swings it open, and is momentarily stunned by him.
Dressed in a dark grey suit, he’s too handsome for his own good. His clothing is tailored to perfection, emphasizing hisslim waist and muscular chest. He’s fit, but not too bulky, and she gapes at him longer than she should. His hair is slightly slicked back, the tuft that fell into his forehead earlier now controlled and polished.
He doesn’t belong in Green Woods.
With that wicked grin and piercing eyes, he belongs on a cover of a magazine.
She suddenly feels inadequate with her lackluster hair and cheap clothes, but her insecurities don’t stop her annoyance.
“I didn’t give you my address,” she snaps as a greeting.
His smile slightly falls, but then he hands her the delicate bouquet of white roses he was holding. “And you didn’t tell me the truth,” he replies, stepping through the door despite her look of indignation. “You’re not sick. And, judging by your scent, you’ve been drinking.” His eyes narrow, and a flush spreads up her neck.
She scoffs. “So? What are you even doing here? You can’t just walk in!” she points at the door. “You need to go. And here, take these.” She tries to hand the bouquet back to him.
He tilts his head slightly, ignoring the flowers. “How much have you had to drink? And who were you drinking with?” he asks quietly, his voice low.
There’s a warning in his tone, but she doesn’t care to listen. The wine makes her brave.
“I was with my boyfriend,” she grits out, and his eyes darken. “And it’s not your business how much I drank.”
The corner of his lip quirks. “Boyfriend, huh?” The darkness doesn’t leave his eyes. “First a husband, now a boyfriend…what do I have to do to be a part of your harem?” he muses.