I'm the Alpha's Crush

Chapter 8

"-I like the assertiveness..."

I felt myself blush, cheeks burning as I turned away. Trying to hide my embarrassment, I spent far too long plating the toast.

Unable to stall any longer, I set half in front of Malcolm, keeping half for myself.

His quick, sharp eyes seemed to catalogue my every movement, and for a moment I felt naked under his stare.

That reminds me...

"So, how do the clothes fit?"

Suddenly, it was his turn to blush. "Well," he answered. After a pause, his gaze darted down to his lap, and he muttered under his breath, "...a little too well."

Oh.

Stuffing a wedge of buttered toast in my mouth, I cursed my curiosity.

That explains the blanket...

Pulling it tighter around himself, Malcolm sipped his coffee. "Thanks for these, by the way. I'll, um... I'll wash them and get them back to you at work? Or," he mused, "if you're serious about dating, I could bring them then?"

I chuckled, "Most guys bring flowers on a first date."

Malcolm smiled, "I can do both." Taking a bite of toast, he chewed and swallowed before asking, "So, what would you want to do for our first date? Coffee?"

Glancing down at my mug, I joked, "We're kind of already on a coffee date." Shrugging, I continued, "I don't know, you've been thinking about this a lot longer than I have – where did you see us having our first date?"

"I never thought I'd get this far," he admitted.

Smiling, I shook my head, "Am I that intimidating?"

Malcolm smirked, "You're terrifying."

Feigning annoyance, I glared at him. "I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."

"Good – that's how it was meant."

As I chuckled, I realized-

-I'm flirting with my Alpha...

And, in the back of my mind, a little voice, snide and familiar, began to laugh.

Looking up, I found Malcolm watching me, doubtless having felt my shift in mood.

Before he could ask me a question I wasn't ready to answer, I asked one of my own.

"So, what exactly happened last night?" Picking up my mug, I met his gaze, shifting nervously on my feet.

My distraction seemed to work, and he took a sip of his coffee, frowning.

With a sigh, he answered, "I got drunk."

Is that supposed to explain it?

"Uh huh." I leaned my elbows on the counter, "and do you often get drunk and wake up random places?"

My question was flippant, but his answer was not.

"...yes."

What?

"Well," he frowned, reconsidering his words, "I used to. These days, I know my limits and I try to stay far away from them – it's just that I was hanging out with Will, and he was having a rough time-"

His words cut off as he froze, eyes widening, "Oh, fuck-"

"What is it?"

"Will-" raking a hand across his hair, Malcolm looked panicked, "God, he's probably shitting bricks right now-"

"Yeah, sorry about that-"

"Sorry?" His face was pure confusion.

"You asked me to call him last night, but I don't have his number." I explained.

Burying his face in his hands, Malcolm muttered, "You don't have to apologize for that, this is my own damn fault." Looking up, he asked, "Could you- I mean, would you mind giving me a lift? I'd rather not walk across town like this." He gestured to the tight tank top that hugged the muscles of his chest and abdomen.

The image of him doing a walk of shame through our sleepy, residential neighborhood flashed in my mind, and I bit back a mischievous grin.

"Yeah," I nodded, setting my mug down, "Just let me grab my keys."

Sitting in the driver's seat, I waved as Malcolm went up the sidewalk toward the white, two-story house. On the porch, a man that I vaguely recognized as 'Will' stood at the door, eyes darting between me and Malcolm, his expression a mix of curiosity and gleeful amusement.

As the door closed behind them, I moved to shift out of park, pausing when I heard my phone ring.

Glancing at the screen, I answered, "Hey River-"

"So, apparently congratulations are in order?"

Frowning, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I just walked into the house and there's this mystery scent all over the place-"

Crap.

"Did somebody have a 'gentleman caller'?"

Rubbing my temple, I answered, "It's a long story..."

"I bet – that's why you're going to come home right now and tell me all the juicy details!"

"Fine," I conceded, "but if I have to tell you about my night, you have to tell me about yours."

"Deal."