“Beth,” Tristan looks at me through a little mirror hanging on the ceiling of the car, “You are to stay glued to my side. Understand?” His eyes narrow, deadly serious.
“Yes, alpha,” I say, determined to make him proud.
The first shop we go into is insane. Mountains of clothes hang from circular racks and are folded in neat stacks on little tables. Shirts and shorts and pants and skirts and sweaters and everything in between! It’s almost overwhelming the amount ofcolors and options available. Thankfully, Jeremy knows exactly where to go.
“These should fit.” Jeremy holds a pair of leggings up to my waist, leaning far back so he can judge the length. “Do you like the color?” He holds them up, and I nod.
“I like black.” I touch the buttery soft fabric.
“Perfect.” Jeremy sets them in Tristan’s basket. The alpha doesn’t react. He just stands there, quietly carrying the quickly growing pile of clothes. “I’m gonna get a few more of these.” He touches a flowy white top in the basket. “It’s one of the few things here that’s omega-made.”
I nod excitedly, but I don't follow the beta. Tristan didn’t move, so I’m not moving either.
“Are you having fun?” Tristan asks.
“Yes.” I stifle a squeal.
The alpha smiles widely at my reaction. It’s clear he thinks I’m cute, but that’s okay. I think he’s cute too. There’s just something about a mountain of a man carrying a tiny basket full of leggings.
“What did you think of the car?” he asks.
“It was amazing!” I say far too loudly, making a nearby shopper glance over at me. “My beta father once tried to draw me a picture of one,” I say a little quieter, “but it made no sense to me.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” He beams down at me, standing extra tall.
I take the chance to admire the alpha. He looks amazing in his tight jeans and smooth black T-shirt. The sleeves are a little short, displaying the black tattoos that twist all over his impressive upper arms. My eyes linger on the puffy red scar peeking out of one sleeve.
I did that.
I hurt him.
And if he had been a little shorter, I would have killed him…or I would have tried.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly as my gaze drops to Tristan’s bruised knuckles—reminders of last night.
“Yeah?” the alpha looks at me, confused. “For what?”
“For stabbing you.” I touch the scar on his arm, slipping my fingertips over the raised skin.
Tristan’s expression goes soft, and he gives me a half-heart shrug. “That’s okay,” he says like it’s no big deal. But I don’t really buy it.
“You aren’t angry with me?” I ask. “Not even a little?”
The big sexy alpha looks down at me with a glint of mischief in his dark eyes. “I don’t know,” his voice drops to a spine-tingling rumble. “Sit on my face and let’s find out.”
“Alpha!” I gasp, pretending to be scandalized, but in reality I’m thrumming. “Someone could have heard you.” I squeeze my legs together, fighting the growing heat in my belly.
“No one heard.” He leans down and scents the air around me. A delicious hum pushes from his chest and my nipples go hard. “And even if they did, who cares?” He slips his hand around my braid, tugging slightly.
“Stop it,” Jeremy says flatly as he steps up behind us. “You can sit on his face later,” he says, making it clear that everyone probably did hear.
I scan the area around us, devastated to see two alphas staring right at me. They narrow their eyes, studying my face. Judging me.
“What do you think of this for Basil?” Jeremy holds out his hand, showing me a silver pocketknife.
Grateful for the change in subject, I look it over, recognizing the design. “My brother had one of those,” I say. “The hinge used to stick all the time.” I push up onto my toes, looking to see where Jeremy got it.
The two scary alphas keep looking at me, but I pretend not to notice.
