The Alpha’s Desire 1(14)

 

 

 

“Where’s your car?” He inquired.

 

 

 

“Right over there, the baby blue thing one row back,” I pointed out, trying to not sound as embarrassed as I felt about the old rusty car I still owned. It had been my father’s. Another thing I couldn’t get rid of for no real good reason, although I’d created many.

 

 

 

I deemed it a necessary sacrifice to Chloe when she started in on it every time she had to be seen in it. I kept my expenses down to keep my low-paying sucky job. She didn’t know that the job’s whole purpose was to allow me more time to write. I squeaked by each month. Sometimes I even had a little left for a few splurges on clothes or bubblebath. Yet, most of the time I lived frugally from paycheck to paycheck, always putting money away, saving for the day I quit my job to write full time. A pipe dream now, it felt more realistic if I at least saved for it. Of course, I’d have to actually let someone read one of my stories first.

 

 

 

He escorted me to my car. Sure it was just my own nerves rattling me, but I swore that his hand on my back trembled a bit.

 

 

 

“So, do you know the diner two blocks down?” He asked as he leaned over my open door.

 

 

 

He looked to be posing for a cover for GQ instead of talking to some chick he’d picked up in a bar after a long night of work.

 

 

 

“I do. But, if you would rather, we can go back to my place and order a pizza or something,” I offered, the shake in my voice altering each of my words.

 

 

 

“You sure?” He questioned, his grip tightening on the door. “You don’t know me at all.”

 

 

 

“No, but Sarah’s friend, Matt, I think it was, or was it Mike…anyway, he does. Apparently he had only good things to say about you. I’m just tired of the crowd noise by this time of night.”

 

 

 

Sarah had talked about a guy at work, but she’d said he’d liked the band, not the lead singer in particular. She’d never clarified if this guy knew the band personally or not. Still, I didn’t want to seem too much the stupid, desperate girl I planned on being tonight. I couldn’t explain the change in me, but I would swear it was all his fault. Maybe the confidence shown in his easy stance was so great that it was catchy. Maybe the words in his songs had given me a false sense of knowing this stranger. However, if he had such deep thoughts, he couldn’t be all bad. Didn’t account for his sexual tastes, but tonight, I’d already promised myself to take every chance offered. Other women did it. Even I’d figured I would be more cautious after last weekend, but a sudden recklessness took over this cautious girl, and drowned out everything I thought I knew about myself.

 

 

 

“Hmm, I’ll have to thank this Matt or Mike once I figure out who she was talking about. Pretty common name.”

 

 

 

He paused then, and I busied myself by rubbing my hands together as if they were cold rather than shaking.

 

 

 

“How about I call a friend of mine with a pizza shop, pick us up a pie, and then head to your place?” He offered. “I’ll just need the directions and how you like your pizza.”

 

 

 

“Pizza, anyway it comes,” I admitted with barely any heat rising to my full cheeks.

 

 

 

For once, I didn’t care if someone thought I looked this way due to too much pizza or whatever food had been spoken of. With him, I was going to be me, even if this mysterious version of myself. I gave him directions to my place, and then watched him walk to his car. Locking the door, I belted myself in and prayed he’d show up. Apparently, the real me had only lingered in the background waiting for her chance to pounce on my current dream.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

At home, I busied myself, worked off anxious energy by brushing my teeth, fluffing my long dark curls, and re-applying my make-up. Fidgeting by adjusting my dress around my curves, I surveyed my appearance from all angles in my full-length mirror. In my mind, I heard him call me ‘beautiful’ again. I wouldn’t doubt him. Maybe big girls were his preference. Stranger things could happen. Look at my wolf.

 

 

 

I stopped then. I no longer saw myself in the mirror. Trembles took over my body as I let myself deal with the fact that I’d deemed that beast my protector. More important, I believed my brain. I’d stopped fighting the image, the reality of that moment in time.

 

 

 

A strange realization dawned on me. Somehow, the profound meanings wrapped in mournful harmonies of his music had changed my memory, or at least the way I looked at it. I’d found some peace. Several of his songs had been about being someone’s protector. He’d spoken of being a harsh savior, a man in the shadows, as well as a guy who could never have his girl. I couldn’t shake the way his music had spoken to me, made me accept so much about myself as if he knew me, had written just what I’d needed to hear. Such a connection with anyone in this life, it had to be a gift.