Page 18 of Pack Apollo

I swear, this woman has made me smile more in the past day than I feel like I have in a long time. "Non-alcoholic, I promise."

Letting her lead the way outside, I get to admire how nice her ass and legs look in her skin-tight pants. Once we're on the sidewalk, she follows me to my car where I open the door so she can slide into the leather seat.

I go around to the other side to get in. As soon as I crank it up and ease out into traffic she questions, "Okay, I didn't get the chance to ask you yesterday what it is that you do."

My normal attitude is to be suspicious of a person when they ask that, especially when they've seen our house and cars. But, I don't get that skeptical little voice in the back of my head with her, making it easy enough to answer honestly.

"I'm an investment banker. I help people decide what to do with their money."

Her expression is impressed. "So, you make money by telling people how to spend theirs?"

"Exactly that."

"Wow," she states. "I think I'm going to school for the wrong thing."

"At least you're going to school," I tell her. "More than half don't even bother these days. It's even more noble with your case. Palmer told us that you work to send money back to your mother while you're trying to keep up with classes."

"That's quite subjective, actually," she says, looking outthe window and watching the town pass by without seeing any of it. "My mom made it known that she thought going to college was useless and that I'm throwing my life away when I can be making money instead. I haven't spoken to her since the day I left to come here."

I make disapproving sound in the back of my throat. "And what were to happen if you stopped providing for her poor lifestyle choice?"

Billie

Were it anyone else, I'd be asking him to pull over and let me out of the car. I've definitely ditched people for a lot less. One of the main reasons I never had any friends. As it stands, I want to finally confide in someone.

"It's the alcohol talking when she gets like that," I tell him, refusing to look back at him. "She was honestly the best mom anyone could ever ask for before her accident. Ever since, it's like she's not the same person anymore. Kind of had to finish raising myself. You learn to deal with the negativity. To answer your question, I won't ever find out. I can't stand the thought of her being unhappy, and that's what makes her happy."

"Maybe one day you'll feel better about approaching this conversation," he says gently. Then, as though to change the subject, he confesses, "My parents were both born into money and have more than they know what to do with. I spent the majority of my childhood with a nanny. Some of them were nice and nurturing, but I had a few that were simply there for the money. By the time I hit twelve, I was taking care of myself, not needing anyone else."

This draws my gaze back to him. "Didn't that get lonely?"

He shrugs. "I didn't know any different, so I wasn't missing anything."

"Different sides of the same jacked-up coin," I say softly, making him smile again.

"Something like that," he says.

Taking us to the smoothie bar on the other side of town, he tells me to order whatever I want. He requests, not demands that I let him pay, saying that he knows I'm more than capable but it was his idea and should be his treat. I know I should decline, and begin to, but I remind myself that he's an alpha and it's part of their personality to please people, specifically omegas.

"What are you doing later?" he asks, pulling onto campusand making his way toward the dorms.

"It's that one," I tell him, pointing him in the right direction, adding, "probably hanging out and doing school work."

"Think you might have time to get away in a little while?" he asks, slowing down next to the curb. "I'd love to take you somewhere if you can."

"Like a friend date?" I question.

This earns me a broad smile before he bites down on his bottom lip for a second. "Yes, like a friend date."

"Okay, sure," I tell him, gathering my things and stepping out.

He rolls down the window as I shut the door. "I'll be back at six. Wear something for outdoors, and hiking boots if you have them or good walking shoes."

"Got you, boss," I tell him, earning myself another smile before he pulls off.

I could lie and say that I spend the next several hours doing what I said I'd be doing, but it'd be one big fat one. No matter the subject or assignment, I just can't seem to concentrate on anything at all. My bed ends up looking like a tornado had ripped through my bag and strewn the contents all over. By the time five-thirty rolls around, I'm nervous pacing and having to stop myself from chewing on my fingernails like I used to do forever ago when Mom got unbearable.

Dressed exactly how he asked in a pair of tights, a light sweater shirt, and tennis shoes, I go stand outside to wait on him. He pulls up five minutes early, and leans across the middle to open the door from the inside. As soon as my butt hits his leather seat, words pour from me like I've been holding them in all afternoon. And I have.

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