Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
I bring the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring, stopping once I’ve turned the corner.
Taryn answers on the second ring, her voice brighter than I expected, considering her texts earlier this morning.
“Hey! What’s up?” she asks.
I need to see you. I need to see with my own eyes that you’re unharmed. You’re my mate.
I drum my fingers on the banister, biting my tongue to prevent any of those confessions from spewing from my mouth. “Are you busy?”
“Nope.”
“I know we already agreed to meet tomorrow, but did you want to meet today too? I figured another extra training session will only help more.”
She’s silent for longer than she should be, and I pull the phone away, making sure I didn’t imagine calling her or that the call didn’t drop.
“Taryn?” I ask, pressing the phone back to my ear.
“Sure,” she says. “I’ll be there this afternoon.”
TARYNReid waits for me on the front steps of Crescent Lake’s large log cabin packhouse, his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants and his knee bouncing. He tracks my every movement up the stairs, his eyes leaving behind a heat that brands not just my skin but my soul. His body is tense, muscles rippling under his black t-shirt, and his fists clench in his pockets.
“Hey,” I say as I reach him, stopping one step below where he stands.
I stare at him, my hands on the backs of my hips, waiting. For what, I don’t know. Maybe for him to pull me in the rest of the way, to hug me like he did yesterday after I pinned him? Or for him to tell me he missed me as much as I missed him?
He stares back at me, his eyes scanning my body, leaving that same heated trail behind. It’s not like when Kent checked me out last night. That look sent my stomach roiling and my skin crawling. But Reid’s look—him checking to see if I’m all right—turns my insides to mush and fills my heart with warmth.
Even though I’m imagining his concern and protectiveness. Projecting my unfulfillable school-girl crush and inserting it into every little action of his, over-analyzing it all in a hopeless attempt to see my affections and interest reciprocated.
He smiles at me, a sigh leaving his mouth and his body relaxing. “Hi,” he says. “Follow me.”
He turns without another word and walks through the open door of the packhouse. I hesitate, my feet shuffling on the steps, before I follow him inside.
The interior of their packhouse is as warm and cozy as I’d imagined it would be based on the exterior. A roaring fire is lit inside the massive stone fireplace of the spacious living area, where wolves mingle and hang out, some reading, some playing games, and others chatting and laughing. I spot Maddie among them, and she waves at me, smiling, before turning her attention back to her friends.
I step towards the large sliding glass doors that lead out onto the back deck and the grounds, but Reid shakes his head and walks down the hall. “This way,” he says, beckoning me with his chin and leading the way.
I freeze in the doorway of a den on the main floor of their packhouse. Inside, a large, overstuffed couch is loaded with fluffy pillows and a large black blanket, and on the coffee table there are snacks galore—including cookies. I poke my head around the frame and spot a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, already on and prepped with something for us to watch.
“I thought you wanted to train?” I ask.
The entire setup screams movie night. And I’m standing here in my leggings and Nikes, the same style sports bra as yesterday under my boxy, cropped half-zip sweatshirt, since I know how much it affected him yesterday seeing me in that sports bra. My hair is piled on top of my head in twists, a gray head wrap at my hairline. I am one hundred percent dressed for a workout when that obviously is not what Reid has planned for us.
“The training fields are being used for our competition with Amber Forest for the rest of the day,” he says. “So we’re training like this instead.”
He plops onto the couch and grins at me, patting the spot next to him, his light blue eyes sparkling. His grin is eager and contagious, and I hesitate for a moment before I make my way over to him.
I anticipated working out with him, getting sweaty with him, and maybe practicing pinning him again, but the couch is cozy and inviting, and curling up next to him with a pillow and a fuzzy blanket is more appealing than sparring with him. Plus, he’s put quite a bit of effort into this whole setup—the pillows, the blanket, the snacks. Especially the snacks. He’s got chips and dip, cheese and crackers, fruit, pretzels, popcorn, cookies, gummy bears, and peanut M&Ms. It’s all a perfect mix of salty and sweet, a veritable charcuterie board of snacks.
It’s perfect. For a movie night. But not for training.
“I still don’t see how this is training,” I say as I sit next to him, toeing off my shoes. “Don’t get me wrong, I love movie night as much as the next girl, but movies do not equal training.”
“Who said we’re watching movies?”
He clicks the remote as I settle against the pillows, and, sure enough, instead of a movie, a video of a warrior competition plays.
“Oh,” I say, my lip sticking out in a pout and my brow furrowing.
He laughs, leaning into the corner of the couch and throwing his arm across the cushions. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it. Someone may think you’re actually enjoying yourself.”
I grab a pillow and fling it into his face, muffling his continued laughter. “Dickhead,” I say under my breath, snuggling further into the cushions, hugging the pillow to me.
“Nah. I think that title goes to your alpha. Or that male you went on a date with last night.”
His voice is light and teasing, but his eyes are dark, that sparkle from before gone, and locked on me. He tightens his jaw, and his hand grips the couch cushions.
I nod. “I can agree with you on that second one for sure.”
He swallows and sits straighter, leaning closer to me. “What happened?”
“He was rude. Didn’t listen to me when I told him I didn’t drink. Ordered a meal for me.”
“I did that,” he points out with a chuckle.
“No, you asked the chef to make something special for me. A chef you know and have a relationship with. You didn’t order a meal for us to share before I’d even arrived at the restaurant.”
He winces. “Yikes.”
“Then he implied I was overweight and complained that I didn’t drink the very expensive wine he bought for us, even though I told him I didn’t drink. And he had the gall to assume I would give him head or even sleep with him when the date was over. So I threw that glass of wine in his face and walked out without a second glance back at him.”
“Well, dickhead is too nice a name for him,” he growls, his hand gripping the couch tighter, his eyes darker than before. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that,” he adds, moving his hand to my shoulder.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?