Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
I snap my head up from my book and peek around the daisies I placed in the middle of the dining room table this afternoon. Nolan stands in the archway, his words bringing an abrupt end to the silence we’ve existed in since returning to his house after Haven’s rehearsal.
Thank the Goddess.
“Pardon?”
He clears his throat. “I should have asked you this morning. I’m sorry. I was being a—“
“An asshole?”
“A dickhead,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he plops down in the chair across from me and slides the vase of daisies to the side to see me better. “So, I was wondering what you liked? Haven and I usually stop by Brewed Awakenings on our way to her rehearsals as part of our routine. I’ll make sure I save your order on my phone so it gets sent to them with ours.”
“Thanks,” I say, closing my book. “I like my coffee with a little sugar and a splash of cream.”
He nods and crosses his arms, leaning back in the chair, his body still holding the tension that’s been there since this morning, since I asked him about the ring on the table. His focus is on the vase of daisies, but mine is on the spot on the table where that ring sat.
I wonder what he did with it. I wonder why it struck such a nerve in him.
I wonder if he’s thinking about it, too. If he’s thinking about her.
Does he love her?
Nolan’s head pivots from the daisies on the table to the daisies on the counter and then back to me. His brow furrows more with each turn of his head until that scowl is directed at me. And even though he’s leaning back in his chair, even though he gives off the semblance of relaxation, his muscles are taut with tension and irritation.
“We should probably come up with some ground rules. Or agreements.”
I nod and lean forward, placing my elbows on the table. “That would probably be wise.”
Silence again. That same serious look on his face and in his eyes. That same tension locking his muscles up tight. His jaw ticks and his throat bobs and he massages the back of his neck again, tearing his eyes away from me and placing them back on the daisies.
“Um…” His cheeks puff out, and he blows air through his lips. “I don’t know how to do this, actually. I’m an only child, and I’ve never had a roommate or lived with someone else aside from…”
He trails off and rubs his buzzed hair, his eyes going distant and his lips pulling into his mouth. And again, I think of that ring from this morning.
Did she leave him? Does he miss her?
“I know what it’s like to be an only child too,” I say, pushing all those way too personal questions out of my mind. “Maybe we can just start simple? And add more rules as we think of them?”
“Simple how?”
“Like… don’t be an asshole?”
He exhales through his nose, a laugh that’s not quite a laugh, and he turns his head to me again. “Dickhead,” he corrects me. “Don’t be a dickhead.”
I smile and I swear he almost does, too. “Okay. So, agreement number one: don’t be a dickhead.”
“We should write this down,” he says, sitting up straighter and glancing around his kitchen, drumming the table with his hands.
He bolts from his chair and grabs a permanent marker next to a grocery list on the counter, then he clicks his tongue as he spins in place, searching for something. “Do you have a piece of paper?”
“No.”
His eyes land on my book. They flick up to mine and I shake my head. “Don’t you dare.” My voice is low, and I release a small growl, my lycan rising to her full height in my mind, now on alert.
He reconsiders for maybe half a second, then he lunges forward and grabs my book off the table before I can snatch it away to safety. “Nolan!” I shriek, jumping up and rushing over to him. “Stop!”
He sidesteps me and turns, lifting the book as high as he can on the dining room wall. He opens it to the title page, pen poised over the paper, and I jump, clawing at his arm to get him to stop. But he’s a massive wall of grumpy, unmoving muscle, and I’m a gnat crashing into the stones, body smashed upon impact.
And none of it matters. I watch as on the cream paper underneath the title and the author’s name, he writes, “Agreement #1: don’t be a dickhead.”
“That’s Haven’s book,” I say, taking it back from him after he closes it again.
The color drains from his face. Ice-cold terror runs through his body. His jaw goes slack, and his heart skips a beat as he glances at the now-defaced book in my hand and then back at me, his horror with himself rising. “Shit, is it really?”
It’s a low blow. But even in the short time I’ve known him, I’ve seen how important his luna is to him, not just as his alpha’s mate and a leader of his pack, but as a friend and a member of his family. He treats her with the utmost respect and puts her before himself.
My lips curl into a smile, and I laugh, leaning back against the wall, tilting my head up, and squeezing my eyes shut. “No, but you should see your face right now.”
His brows are raised, and his arms are crossed when I lower my head again. He leans in closer, one hand bracing himself against the wall as he towers over me, encroaching on my personal space with nowhere for me to escape to with the wall pressed against my back.
“Yeah, I didn’t think Haven would be the type to read,”—he glances down at the book cover and then his eyes flick back to me—“‘Seducing the Mafia King.'” My face heats and I press my lips together. “What’s it even about?”
I swallow and lick my lips, hugging the book to my chest with one hand, pressing the other against the wall for balance, and lifting my chin. I won’t be intimidated by him and his imposing presence and his grumpy attitude. And I won’t be ashamed of what I enjoy reading. “Exactly what it sounds like.”
“Pure smut?”
I gape at him, and it’s his turn to laugh, the first time I’ve truly heard the sound from him. Or a genuine one, at least. It’s a deep, rich, hearty sound that vibrates my bones and echoes in my ears. The laugh hums through my veins, like the smooth, resonant notes on a cello, ensnaring the attention of my lycan. Her ears flick forward, and she stares at him through my eyes, assessing him.
It’s a beautiful sound, but it disappears all too quickly as he inhales sharply. His face shutters, and he pushes off the wall and spins away from me, heading out of the room. He takes his heat with him, leaving me with another chill running through my body, this one caused by the growing distance and his guarded,
storm cloud aura he’s snapped back into place. He fortifies it with each step, with each inch of space he puts between us.
“I’ll see you in the morning for Haven’s rehearsal,” he says as he reaches the archway, where he pauses before he glances at me over his shoulder, that surly, almost cold look back in his eyes, the glimpse he gave me of the real Nolan nowhere to be found. “And Cassandra?”
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?