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“Getting lost,” I shot back. He hadn’t said it meanly, but I couldn’t help how angry I sounded. He raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle. That was enough for me to feel like a dick.
“Sorry, bad day,” I admitted with defeat.
“Does it have to do with that damned show?”
One sentence and it felt like ice water had been thrown over my head. I couldn’t respond, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He saw my panic and held up a hand. I didn’t move as he shut his truck off and hopped out, leaving his door open.
“Hey, I’m going to need you to breathe,” he bit out, shaking me slightly. It was enough to snap me out of it.
He took his exaggerated breaths and I tried to match them but the more I breathed in the more I could smell him, his scent, which was stronger this close. At the diner we had a counter between us, food, and people all around us.
Now there was no way to avoid the strong scent of cinnamon and coffee. It was fitting for the man who ran a diner but it was almost a cozy contrast to his rugged nature and standoffish ways.
As my brain cleared it grew even more intense and I found myself breathing in and leaning forward before I could stop myself. My cheeks flamed and he was so tense, staring over my head and taking a step back, that he didn’t notice me being utterly embarrassing.
He was struggling, too.
Even as I fought through the unsettling moment of finding another mate, all ll I could think about was that he knew about the show, about me looking desperate in front of the nation and soon he’d know about the rejection, too.
Fuck.
“Look, I was just trying to let you know you didn’t have to hide. I don’t give a fuck about that show. If you want to talk about it, talk to someone else, I’m not the therapist type. I don’t need your life story to serve you food.”
It was funny that he seemed almost startled at my reaction and a bit angry. Or maybe that was just him being out of his depth and clearly not knowing how to handle people.
For some reason that brutal honesty and the fact he wouldn’t coddle me was enough to make me like him.
“You watched that show?” It was the only question I could manage. He let out a shrug and got defensive.
“Not by choice. There’s a group of ladies that come by every week to watch the episodes as they aired. They’ve even got two tables reserved for the finale at the end of the week.”
“Can you tell me who they are so I can avoid them like the plague?” I questioned.
He laughed humorlessly. “Oh, there’s no avoiding the Biddie Brigade,” he said as he stepped away and grabbed something from his truck. It was two bouquets of flowers. “I don’t care about the show but I’m sorry you’re struggling. I’m going to drop these off at a grave. If you want a ride home, hop in and warm up.”
“I’m not cold,” I muttered.
He raised an eyebrow. “You are lost.”
“I am,” I agreed as I reluctantly moved over and leaned against his car. He shook his head at my obvious refusal of his offer for me to get in. But in what I was learning was true Ezra fashion, he gave a noncommittal shake of his head and continued down the path to the gravestones.
Good thing the street was a dead end, since he’d literally just parked his truck right in the lane. Ezra didn’t give a fuck about anything.
My eyes tracked the alpha as he walked through the graveyard, moving his way to the back and kneeling down in front of two matching headstones. He placed one bouquet on each grave and bowed his head.
He shifted back to his feet after a few beats and stood before them. His back was to me and I couldn’t be certain, but I had a feeling he was talking to them, not caring that I was watching.
I’d kill for even an ounce of that man’s ‘give no fucks’ attitude.
My phone went off, pulling me away from my creeper staring. It was a notification and I frowned down at it. I hadn’t used the social media messaging app in so long that I’d forgotten to deactivate it as well when I set up my do not disturb settings.
The message was a group chat between me, Serenity, and Katya.
Katya: Hey, it’s Kat! I was thinking that the three of us should hang out before you start so we can get to know each other. Otherwise, ganging up on Walter won’t be the same.
Serenity: Aww, ganging up on Walter is my favorite. I’m definitely down for a girls’ hangout. I can only take so much of my cousin’s glares as I pick up diner food to take and eat at home, alone with my cat.
Kat: Don’t talk about my man. Ludwig is a solid cat date.
