Page 4 of Breaking the Alpha
Angelina.
Angelina with the honey and cinnamon hair.
Angelina with the soothing scent of roses and oranges swirling around her.
Angelina with the laughing amber eyes.
Tossing his wallet and phone onto the desk, he flopped onto his bed and grabbed the remote, his body still thrumming from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
From the moment she’d walked into the lounge, he was captivated by the pretty little bohemian with the incredible mane of wild cinnamon hair.His fingers had flexed as he watched her speak to her friend, her hands animated and her smile catching his breath even from a distance.
But he wasn’t back in Epson to drool over sandaled hippies with bright eyes and long legs.He had one night in the hotel before he faced his brothers and started dealing with the shitstorm his life had become.So he’d kept his head down, finished his meal, and handed his server his credit card with the intent to slip back to his room undetected.
And then Cody and Jett had arrived on scene.
Had he heard any interest from either Angelina or Zoe, he would have kept his mouth shut, polished off his beer, and left.
But neither woman seemed pleased.
A quick walk to the bar under the guise of wanting another beer confirmed his suspicions.Zoe looked unimpressed and Angelina was inching farther away every time the asshole beside her moved closer.
He knew guys like them.Hung out with guys like them.They were the type to mistake politeness for interest, who didn’t understand the fine line between flirty and pushy.They had a mission and assumed their good looks and open wallets were enough to unlock the reward at the end.
When he heard his opening to jump to the defense of his little bohemian, he took it.
Running his hand over his face, he glared at the TV.
She wasn’t his.
The mental slipup drained the thrill running through him.His subconscious claiming of her was the first splash of cold water he needed, and his hope for her to view him as a decent guy finished off the job with a full icy bucket.
Because she had.
He’d looked to her for permission to continue his verbal offensive against those guys and she’d given it with the gentle nod of her head.While he spouted off, the look of amusement and surprise on her face had morphed into laughter, spurring him on.
When she fanned her face with her hands, tears on her cheeks, he was done for.
He wanted nothing more than to make her laugh until she cried again.
And the thought scared the hell out of him.
With a grunt, he got off the bed and trudged to the mirror, glaring at his reflection.
He looked rough, but aside from the bags under his eyes, it wasn’t terrible.Jodie would probably have a coronary if she saw him, his oversized shirt hiding the muscles he worked so hard to build and maintain.She would notice he hadn’t shaved in two days, likely comment on his decision to wear an old pair of jeans instead of the designer ones she sent him to endorse.
But Jodie wasn’t here, he wasn’t aiming to impress anyone, and after a long day of flights and driving, he was hungry for something more substantial than the kind of display food the hotel lounge served.
Shoving his wallet, phone, and keycard into his pockets, he walked out of his room with the singular goal of finding some decent taquitos.
Chapter Two
“Are you usingme for my aura?”Zoe teased, leading the way through the crowd.“Because I should warn you, I think my trip to Utah changed it from yellow to red after that fuckboy in Salt Lake.”
They waited while the elevator emptied out.“You’re still beautifully yellow and warm.”Angelina smiled as they stepped in.“And yes, I’m definitely using your joy to feed my own.”
“In that case, I’ll continue to siphon your pretty blue heart to keep me from going full-on flighty.”
It was a joke between them since the day Zoe stepped into Angelina’s store during its grand opening six months ago.Seeing the collection of candles, gemstone jewelry, and oils in the window, Zoe walked into Wholly Yours with her arms spread, demanding her spirit be cleansed of her poor choices in pretty boys.
