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“The one and only,” I nod.
Cheyenne suddenly sits up, tapping a finger against her chin in mock contemplation. “Hmm, tempting…”
My grin widens as a sense of victory surges through me.
“But my answer’s still no,” she finishes, taking another sip of tequila.
I deflate, shoulders slumping. She had me there for a second.
“You can’t be a recluse forever, Chey,” I grumble.
“You do realize that’s kind of our pack’s thing, right?” she snorts. “Moving all the time, living on the outskirts of civilization…” she trails off, holding the rim of the cup against her lower lip. “We’re all recluses, when you think about it.”
“Yeah, well pretty soon, that may all change,” I say, unbuttoning the cuffs of my black dress shirt to roll the sleeves up to my elbows.
“I hope so. I like it here.”
“Well you’d like it more if you got to know some of the people,” I mumble as I start to roll my sleeve.
“Hard pass. I don’t do well with strangers.” Cheyenne scoots over to the edge of the bed and slings her legs over, rising to stand and sauntering toward me. “Besides, you’ve gotta do your thing tonight, get in good with the other alphas. I’d just be a distraction.”
“Maybe I could use the distraction. You could flirt with the alphas, help me butter them up?” I suggest, struggling to get the roll on my cuff right.
She snorts another laugh, shaking her head as she sets her cup on the dresser. Then she reaches for me and bats my hand away from my shirt sleeve, taking over.
“For real, though,” I say gently while watching her fix my cuff. “You’ve gotta start getting out more. Live a little.”
She darts her amber-eyed gaze up to mine for a second, then focuses back in on my sleeve, rolling it perfectly and securing it at my elbow. “You’re living enough for the both of us right now, mister double life,” she comments, darting me a little smile as she moves to my other sleeve. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you.”
Chey finishes rolling my second cuff up to my elbow, nodding to herself in satisfaction. Then she steps back, lifting her gaze to meet my eyes again. “Have fun tonight, Alpha. I’ll join ya for the next one.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I say, pointing a finger at her.
She rolls her eyes, retrieving her cup of tequila from the dresser and moving toward the door. I grab my phone and keys out of my top drawer, slip them in my pocket, and follow her out.
“Good luck, Romeo,” Chey whispers, tossing me a wink as she heads next door to her own room.
I make a face at her, watching her slip inside her room before turning to lock my door behind me. Then I head straight for my truck, climbing in and firing up the engine, aiming to make a quick exit before anyone can ask where I’m going. The last thing I need is word getting out about this party and members of my pack showing up to crash it.
The highway is dark as I drive over to the old ski lodge, the tall trees lining the road casting ominous shadows over the pavement. It’s a straight shot to the lodge, and within a few minutes I’m turning at the signpost for the Cedar Ridge Ski Resort and traveling up the long driveway to the parking lot. There are quite a few cars in the lot already when I pull in, telling of the size of the party raging inside, and I waste no time in finding a spot to park and heading in.
Like the cabin that Lo and I have been frequenting lately, this place has undoubtedly seen better days. The dingy floor of the lobby is littered with remnants of parties past, and I follow thethump of a heavy bass beat down the darkened hallway until I reach what looks to be the former ballroom.
As soon as I pull open the door, the loud music from within floods my ears, pounding out through the large speakers positioned around the DJ booth. Flashing party lights pulse in time with the beat of the music, and the sheer amount of people crowded inside the room is slightly overwhelming as I pause in the doorway and take in the raucous scene before me. Everywhere I look there are people dancing, tables overflowing with liquor, and red plastic cups clasped in hands.
They’ve really gone all out for this party. Maddox mentioned in his text that it’s a celebration of some sort for their security squad, but as I step inside the ballroom and scan the faces in the crowd, I don’t see him anywhere. Idosee Lo’s brother though, who immediately comes over to greet me with a fist-bump and a friendly smile.
“Glad you made it, bro,” Iver yells over the music. “C’mon, everyone’s over here.”
He turns around, gesturing for me to follow, and we pick our way through the crowd to a lounge area on the far side of the room where Tristan, Ares, and Archer are hanging out.
I greet all three of them before sinking down on a beat-up leather sofa beside Iver, resting my elbow against the armrest and crossing an ankle over my knee.
“I need to grab another drink,” Ares says, pushing up from the overstuffed blue armchair across from me and tipping his head in my direction. “You want something, man? What’s your poison?”
“Whatever you’ve got,” I reply with a casual shrug. “I’m not picky.”
