Page 9 of Nursing the Alpha
The handsome alpha.
The one who had the build of an alien mercenary from one of the books I read a month ago. The one who smiled at me whenever I got on the train. The one who listened patiently when I rambled on nervously because I had to fill the silence between us or become uncomfortably unaware of how huge he was. Of how he could crush me between his fists.
And okay, maybe I’d been crushing on him harder than I’d admit out loud. Who wouldn’t after he saved me the embarrassment of walking home with a milk-soaked shirt? Maybe I liked the way his scent—cedar and spice—lingered in my nostrils long after we parted. The ride we shared on Fridays was never long enough.
The line crawled.
I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as my pecs grew heavier. I hadn’t expressed for a couple of hours. Running for the subway wasn’t going to help.
When the cashier finally waved me forward, I almost dropped my phone fumbling for my wallet.
The second the receipt printed, I was out the door, bag bouncing against my hip as I took off down the street.
The air was cool, but sweat prickled my back. I quickened my pace. Each step tugged at my chest painfully, milk pooling heavier with every stride.
God, please don’t leak.
The train looked about ready to close its doors when I barreled down the steps, lungs burning from the sprint.
“Hold the door!” I shouted to no one, clutching my bag like it might fly out of my arms. Like they would really hold the door for me. It took the last bit of energy out of me to slip inside, just before the door shut.
That was close.
I was still catching my breath when I swept my gaze over the car. And landed on him.
Seth.
Sitting in his usual corner seat, one arm slung lazily over the backrest like he owned the place.
My heart skipped a beat.
How did he always manage to look… dangerous? With his broad shoulders, sharp jaw, and all that dark, slightly messy hair. He had the kind of face that made people glance twice and instinctively give him space.
But from the handful of times we’d exchanged a few quiet words, I knew better.
He wasn’t scary.
He was… sweet.
Too sweet for someone built like a mercenary.
My chest ached again, and not from running this time.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the flutter in my stomach. But the car was packed. Every seat taken.
Including the one next to him.
Disappointment tugged at me.
I took a step forward anyway to stand in the small open space by the pole closest to him.
“Here.”
I froze.
Seth was on his feet, impossibly tall up close, motioning to his seat with a big hand.
“You just ran to catch this train, didn’t you?” His dark eyes flicked to the faint sheen of sweat at my temple, then lower before returning to my face.
