Page 85 of Labor of Love

“Is there like a friend or whatever I can drop you off with? I’m not sure if you should be alone tonight.”

“Unfortunately, my friends are his friends.”

“How did that happen?”

“He was already established when I moved here, so I was absorbed into the friend group and never branched out on my own.” The driver looked forlorn on my behalf. I knew he was going for sympathy, but I only felt like a loser more than I had before.

All the signs of cheating had been there, and now I wasn’t because it’d been easier not to ask questions. Or rather, I asked but accepted the obviously bullshit answer. Either way, I was sitting in the back of a rideshare without a single person to commiserate with apart from the Uber driver.

“The address?” His voice, like his eyes, was sad on my behalf. I didn’t understand how this guy who didn’t even know me spoke to me with more kindness than the boyfriend who’d told me I was being childish for being upset about him cheating. Incorrect. Theex-boyfriendwho said it was my fault because I hadn’t fully responded to his need for love and affection. Oddly enough, my needs included not being cheated on, but I wasn’t going to dump that little bit of TMI on a stranger.

At least we weren’t bonded.

I choked back my tears and sat stone-faced in the back of his car. The driver kept a running monologue about pop culture and an article he read about politics. While he continued in a surprisingly soothing voice—deep but mellow—it gave me a chance to study him in the rearview mirror. He was objectively pretty.

I’ve never been jealous of alphas’ oversized physiques, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate them. This guy was one hell of a specimen. His dark-brown hair fell in messy waves and his heterochromia, the telltale sign of an alpha, was striking. One eye was a deep blue, contrasting with his other emerald-green one, but both practically glowed against his lightly tanned skin. His arms had a nice covering of hair, and I wondered if he had a hairy chest too. Fuzzy pecs always felt good between your fingers or to rub your cheek against.

“What did you say your name was?” I asked him.

“I didn’t tell you? Sorry, it’s Silas Holt. I’m supposed to tell you before you even get in the car.” I sat back against the seat cushion, but his eyes never left mine in the rearview mirror. Thankfully, we were at a red light.

“Want to tell me yours?”

“Rowan.”

“Rowan No Last Name, gonna go home and wait for your boyfriend to come to his senses?”

“Waiting seems silly since he seemed pretty occupied earlier.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t the important part of that question.” Silas’s gaze caught mine again in the rearview mirror. He knew exactly where my mind was wandering, but I didn’t see any judgment there, only understanding. And acknowledgment.

Yeah, he knew.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence. Silas glanced back frequently but let me sit with my thoughts. Unfortunately, theride to my solo townhouse was relatively short without traffic to slow us down.

Never had I been so glad that I’d insisted on not moving in together when I moved down here. We’d dated all through college but hadn’t lived with each other then either. My brother insisted that meant my gut knew it was a wasted relationship. My answer had always been that it only meant I disliked sharing my space or bathroom. I’d never admit it, but maybe Linden had been right.

Silas pulled into a parking spot near my building. Our eyes met through the mirror again. This time, Silas had a crooked grin and a raised brow. My heart pounded as words formed in my brain. I took a deep breath and then asked the question that surprised even me.

“He’s an ex. Would you like to come up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

2

SILAS

It was probably a good thing that driving for Uber was a gig, not a job. If it had been a job, I would’ve been fired a long time ago. There wasn’t a way to rationalize turning off the meter and going into one of my rider’s homes, but I wouldn’t let myself think about that. Rowan had looked heartbroken in the backseat, and any reasonable person would have been drawn in by his buck-brown eyes.

We hadn’t met before, but I felt this inexplicable pull toward Rowan. He was undoubtedly smoking hot, with a lithe, tight omega body adorned by a stuffy tweed jacket, slacks, and loafers. Maybe it was the pretty lilt in his voice. Possibly, it was his eyes that were a smidgen too big for his face. It could’ve been how his hair was a combination of colors that couldn’t come from a bottle. Rowan’s strands were an intriguing mix of dark gold, caramel, and chocolate brown. I suspected he’d say he was due for a cut, but I liked how it was just this side of shaggy. It curled at the edges in a way that made me want to thread my fingers through all of it. I hoped I’d be able to tonight.

By the time I’d shut off the car and opened my door, Rowan was standing by the hood of the car. He looked nervous and fidgety but determined. Tonight, he would make his ex a distantmemory, and I appreciated the decisive action. Make a clean break, walk away, and fuck that man right out of his life. The characters in my romances would approve, and so did I.

“You sure you want me to come in?” My gut told me the answer was yes, but consent was hot.

“I’m sure,” Rowan said abruptly before turning on his heel. “C’mon, it’s cold out here,” he called over his shoulder on his way up the sidewalk.

Within seconds, he’d retrieved his keys from his pocket and opened the door. He stepped over the threshold and held the door open for me.

---