“Sure. Man, your receptionist keeps undressing me with her eyes and then it’s always Mr. Ford this and Mr. Ford that. Have you fucked her?”
“Crass,” I mutter. He’s talking about Bridget. Coco thought I was involved with her and the thought makes me sick. “And I haven’t.”
“Good. I don’t like her. Got anything to eat?”
That makes me chuckle because it’s becoming a standard question. This kid is always hungry. “Check the fridge. You know where everything is. I think there are take-out leftovers.”
He ambles over with that easy grace of an athlete. “You never cook, do you?”
“I’m not good at it.”
“Something our mighty top alpha isn’t good at? Is that possible?”
I freeze. He has never called me that. Our top alpha. “I never said I’m good at everything,” I say carefully.
Am I reading too much into this?
He hums, taking out the leftover containers, then he turns around and freezes, too. “Is that okay?”
“The food, or what you just called me?”
“Both.”
I sigh and shake my head with a slow-spreading grin. “Want me to be your top alpha, pup?”
“You… sort of feel like one, you know.”
“Yeah.” I file that for later perusal. “So… any news?”
“Oh, yeah. I thought I’d better give it to you in person. More humane than way.” He licks his lips, taps his fingers on the container. “So… it turns out she likes me best.”
I slap the younger alpha on the back. “Come off it, pup.”
“You wish.”
Then Ryder opens the door. “What did I miss?’ He strides inside as if he owns the place.
Strangely, that doesn’t bother me at all. I… kinda like it, in fact.
I like them in my apartment. In my life.
The truth is, I find myself missing the guys when we skip a meeting. We’re becoming fast friends. We have our drinks and discuss politics, sports, and art. Ryder tells us about his projects, his clients, his ideas. Zach is always full of energy, talking loudly about his favorite athletes, but also authors and artists. The kid has many interests. And I tell them about my work, my ideas of expanding it, about my security updates at the bar, and about… myself.
Slowly, reluctantly, I’m opening up to them, and it feels right.
I honestly wouldn’t mind living with them and Coco.
Only, Coco seems to have withdrawn this past week.
That’s something I realize only after I ask Zach how their last evenings have been and find out that he hasn’t been invited over to her place. And Ryder, when asked, confesses that he’s depressed because he thought she had decided to ditch him in favor of keeping us two.
Which means the problem is not one of us.
She doesn’t want any of us.
It’s strange. She seemed happy to meet us every night for the past few weeks. We asked and she said she wants to give us a second chance.
“Is this because she thinks she has to choose one of us?” I ask. “Are we shooting ourselves in the foot by not telling her we’re willing to become a pack for her?”
