Page 110 of The Rust in Her Hair

He clearly needed the rest…that, and I'm still a little nervous around the alpha.

Everything in me wanted to climb into that bed, tuck my face into his neck, and stay there the rest of the day. I had to physically hold myself back. And considering I'm not even sure he even wants me chasing him, doing something so intimate would be humiliating.

It’s okay, I tell myself as I set my bowl and book on the coffee table. We can just be friends.

Mack shuffles into the living room a minute later in nothing but his gym shorts, and my stomach does a slow, embarrassing flip at the sight of him.

His blond hair is a mess, and he's got sleep creases pressed into one cheek right above his beard, but all I can see are the grooved muscles along his chest and abs. Even his arms look extra beefy today.

My mouth actually waters at the sight of him, and I have to fight the urge to cross the room and taste every inch of that impressive body.

"Hey." Mack’s voice comes out rough from sleep. He rubs the back of his neck and glances at the window like he's trying to work out what planet he’s on. "What time is it?"

"A little after three."

That wakes him up, and his hand drops. "Three? In the afternoon?"

"Mm-hm." I stare at the deep V along his hips.

Stop it, Lyra.

I should not have spent my whole afternoon nose-deep in Shasta's filthy love story. Half a paperback in, and I suddenly can't look at a shirtless man without my brain turning into a puddle.

I lift my eyes up to his face and order myself to behave.

"Three o’clock," he repeats, looking genuinely alarmed. "I laid down at eleven."

"You did."

Don’t look at his biceps. Don’t do it!

"Why didn’t you wake me up?" He takes a few steps toward me, his body still loose with sleep.

"I thought about it." I tuck my feet under me, trying to ignore the ache growing between my legs. "But I decided against it. You looked way too cozy in that big bed all by yourself." I smile up at the handsome alpha. "I mean, I don't think I've seen you sit still once since I got here. You deserved a few hours without me pestering you."

Mack blinks at me, and his expression softens, going shy around the edges. "You never pester me." He rocks his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly looking like a man who doesn't know what to do with himself. "But, thanks." He swallows hard and shoves his hands in his pockets. "For letting me sleep. That was nice."

"You looked like you were running on fumes this morning," I say, tucking my knees up under my chin. "I missed the energetic Mack a little bit."

Mack huffs a soft laugh and rakes a hand back through his messy hair, not quite meeting my eyes.

"The energetic Mack, huh." He’s smiling now. "I don't think anyone's ever told me they missed me being annoying before."

"You're not annoying," I say firmly. "You're funny. And interesting. And you always make the mornings around here so bright."

Mack goes still for a second, that shy thing flickering across his face again. Then his wild grin breaks loose, wide and sexy, the old Mack surfacing all at once.

"You think I’m funny?"

I nod and he presses a hand to his chest like he’s deeply touched.

"Well,” he gives me a sheepish little smile, “as flattered as I am, I can only guess there’s something real wrong with you.” That smile shifts, teasing me. “I mean, I've been telling my damn mates I'm hilarious for five years and not one of 'em believes me."

"Oh, there's definitely something wrong with me." I let out a loud laugh. "I'm a Van Houten, remember? We're all born with a tragic flaw. Mine just happens to be excellent taste."

Mack laughs as he crosses to the couch, folding himself down onto the cushion.

But he leaves a gap between us.