Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
“I wasn’t whining,” I grumbled, frowning.
“You were totally whining,” Maddie replied with a scoff.
“I wasn’t whining!” I said again, “I wasn’t,” I repeated softly, glancing down at Haven as she laughed next to me.
The waiters brought out our ice creams and set them in front of us, saving me from further embarrassment.
As soon as the server handed me our milkshake and both of the straws, Maddie faux gagged. I glared at her, letting out my aura, but the soft giggles coming from the gorgeous female next to me forced me to relax. I blew out a breath, calming my annoyance with my stubborn baby sister, and threw my arm on the booth seat behind Haven, letting her relax into me as she talked to my parents.
And as we sat there, her at my side and sharing my food with me while spending time with my family, I had flashes of us doing this for years to come—a glimpse of her with a ring on her finger that she twirled while she talked, a snippet of pups running around us and causing a ruckus while Haven tried to get them to settle down and my dad encouraged them—and I couldn’t help but smile at the imagined future I hoped with all my heart would someday come to be reality.
WESLEY
True to my word, I went to see the ballet every night of Haven’s performance run. Some nights I went alone; other nights I came with one of the guys, or Jack and Shirley, or whoever happened to be interested in attending with me.
I leaned against my truck outside the theater Sunday afternoon waiting for her to come outside, kicking rocks with the toe of my boot while I tried to be patient. All the dancers had to clear out their dressing rooms so everything could be cleaned and readied for the next ballet. Maya had offered to take all of Haven’s bouquets back to their apartment so I could take her out for a late breakfast. Or “brunch,” as they liked to call it.
And Haven had a lot of bouquets. Because, one, I had bought her a bouquet of roses for every performance, a different color each night, and two, she had flowers from every single person who knew her and came to see her, as well as some from other admirers of her performance.
Was I jealous that people who didn’t really know her gave her flowers? No.
Okay, yes.
But I knew she treasured mine above all the rest. Maya sent me a picture of her dressing room, showing me how only my roses sat on her makeup counter while she had already taken the rest back to their apartment. But mine all stayed in the place of honor for the entire run of the ballet. With Barry the dancing wolf right in the middle of them all.
The hint of jasmine fluttered towards me, and I lifted my eyes to find my girl strolling to me, her hair down and flowing around her shoulders, wearing the same denim shorts I’d seen her in at the lake, a black T-shirt, the sweater she’d thrown on over her dance clothes when I’d ambushed her at her apartment, and a little crossbody purse.
In her hands she held an envelope, and I tried to peek at it, but she hid it behind her back as she skipped on her last few steps, landing in front of me with a little puff of air and a smile, her curls bouncing with her movement.
“Hey!” she chirped.
“You all done?” I asked, smiling down at her and resisting the urge to pull her into my arms and devour her right there in the theater parking lot.
“All done!” she repeated, a grin on her face.
“Good,” I muttered. “Now I get you all to myself,” I added, almost too quiet for her to hear.
She stepped in closer to me, and I moved my legs, making room for her body to press up against mine. She’d been so busy the last week that, aside from the gala, we hadn’t spent much actual time together. We’d had a few brief moments after her performances, a quick lunch the other day between her rehearsals, and ice cream with my parents, but other than that, nothing.
She needed her rest to be in top condition for each of her performances, and I respected that, even though I wanted to be selfish and take her out every night and show her off. Or take her back to Crescent Lake, bring her to my house, and show her all the ways I could make her little body respond to me, then fall asleep with her in my arms and wake up with her by my side.
Obviously, I had done none of that during the two weekends of her performances and the days in between. But now that she had a bit of time off before rehearsals for the next ballet began, I intended to make the most of it and take steps to deepen our relationship and move things further. Slowly, of course.
And not just because I wanted to be with her physically, even though I did. It was because I wanted to be with her. With Haven. My pen pal. My Sugar Plum.
Keeping her hands behind her back, she tilted her face up to me. I lowered mine to hers, but instead of kissing her, I murmured, “What’s in the envelope?”
“A letter,” she replied, her warm breath fanning my lips and making my dick twitch in my jeans.
“To whom?”
“My pen pal,” she teased.
“He must be a special guy,” I chuckled, my lycan preening as her body gave a little shudder at the deep sound.
“He’s all right,” she said breathlessly.
Her eyes fluttered down to my lips, and I decided to put both of us out of our misery and closed the last bit of distance between us.
The sweet taste of her mouth sent my lycan into a frenzy, urging me to put my hands on her and turn her so her back was up against my truck.
Throwing caution to the wind, I did just that, using the distraction to slip that envelope out of her hands. A gasp left her mouth as her back hit the truck, and I caged her in with my arms, my body covering hers and blocking her from the view of any passers-by.
My lips pressed to hers one more time, then I pulled the envelope between us, opening it and reading it while still keeping her trapped between my body and my truck.
To My Pal,
Eleven and a half years have passed since our last letters to each other, and yet, somehow, at times, it feels like no time has passed at all. I can still remember how I would feel checking my mailbox for an envelope with your handwriting, how my heart would leap inside my chest when I would see my name scrawled across the front and the return address from California. I can still remember the excitement of dropping my purple envelopes off at the post office or in our mailbox, knowing that in a few days you would be opening it, reading it, and writing back to me.
Who’d have thought that all these years later we’d be more than just pen pals?
Well, apparently Jack did, but we’ll pretend for the sake of this moment that he didn’t.
When I read the letters you wrote to me while Jack was in the hospital and you didn’t know if I was okay or mad at you, I think a part of me already knew that you were not the one to blame for our abrupt halt in communication. And then, after talking to Melissa, I knew something fishy was going on, and I should give you a chance.
But I was being stubborn. I had blamed you for so long, had made you out to be this big, bad guy. The villain. And I didn’t want to let that go. I didn’t want to change the narrative.
I would have forgiven you, even without Sebastian doing what he did. But it would have taken longer. I won’t lie about that. So, I guess we should probably thank Sebastian someday. Eventually. Maybe in a few years, so his head doesn’t get TOO big.
What I wanted to do with this letter was answer your spring break letter as if I was still nine-year-old Haven. But I can’t. It’s too hard for me to go back to that time, that moment, those weeks when Jack was sick, and after, when they took me away and threw me into a new family just as I had finally accepted Jack and Shirley as my parents.
So, instead, I’m just going to answer them as now me. I figured you wouldn’t mind.
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?