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"The blond," I answer, unable to take my eyes off him as he laughs at something one of the others said.
“Good choice.” Kristie nods. “Are you breaking the ice, or am I?”
“Shouldn’t we dance a little more first?” I ask, getting nervous the longer I stare at the gorgeous blond. What if he’s taken? Married? Gay?What if he hates pink?“Hang out a little bit longer before we pounce?”
“Bailey, if we wait much longer, all the good ones will be taken,” she warns, gesturing to the huge crowd of twerking girls around us. “They’re all probably thinking the same thing. The early bird gets the fine ass man with a big dick.”
I snort a laugh. “That’s not how the saying goes, Kristie.”
She shrugs. “Well, that’s howmysaying goes. Now, watch me work my magic.”
With that, she turns on the spot and heads straight for the group with her chin held high, leaving me behind. I’m so shocked, all I can do is watch her go.
I’ll never understand how she does it.
She walks right up to the guys without hesitation, says five words, and then they’re laughing together before I can even catch up. I’m thankful, but also a little jealous of her skills.
I wish it was that easy for me to talk to guys.That’s probably why I’m still single at twenty-five.
That, and I hardly have time for a social life anymore. Plus, all the men I’ve tried dating have been fucking morons.
At first, I thought it was just me being too picky, but after four or five worthless beta men left me utterly disappointed, I decided it wasn’t my fault. In fact, I think I have reasonable standards: don’t be an asshole, fuck me like you hate me, and treat me like I’m the only girl in the world.
How hard can that be?
“This is Bailey,” Kristie says, gesturing to me, even though I’m still a few feet away.
She derails my train of thought and I speed walk to her side, securing a wide smile on my face as my eyes gravitate toward the blond. He’s even more stunning up close, with flawless tanned skin and pale eyes that practically shine in the dimming light. All his golden hues give him the appearance of an angel, and when he tosses a smile my way, my knees go weak.
“It’s a pleasure,” he says. “I’m Kenneth, but you can call me Ken.”
“Ryan,” the brown-haired one says, his voice laced with a slight accent. He steps right in front of Kenneth, offering me his hand, and a strong mix of orange and cinnamon rolls off him, reminding me vaguely of Christmas. I inhale deeply, the scent assaulting my senses, and a chill races down my back.
He’s an alpha.
Not a beta like I assumed, but a fucking alpha.
My pulse spikes. I’m completely thrown off, and immediately curious if the other two are alphas as well. Surely, they are.Are they a pack?
This complicates things a little.
My stomach swims as my thoughts careen out of control, and I’m suddenly even more off my game. The guy Kristie’s been eyeing introduces himself as Denzel, but I hardly hear him over the crashing thoughts in my head.
I’d already convinced myself there’s no way these men could be alphas, but I was obviously wrong. If they’re a pack, things might get sticky if they have to choose between Kristie and me. What’s more, they might choose neither of us and settle for some other boring beta on the beach.
At least I haven’t scented any omegas since I got here.
Otherwise, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
I force a smile across my face and try to appear as calm and collected as Kristie, but my confusion and anxiety about the whole situation are mounting.
This is way more than I bargained for.
three
BAILEY
What am I supposed to say to three incredibly fucking hot alphas?
