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We say goodbye and hang up. I’m not much better off than I was, but at least, I’ll know someone there. While I was on the phone, I made my way back to the bedroom. I’m now in the closet going through my meager selection. Skinny jeans and a nice top with heels or my last sundress with my cowboy boots. I’m already going to stick out like a sore thumb. Being the only size fourteen in a pack full of fours or sixes makes it kind of hard to blend in. So, I might as well wear what I want.
My sundress is white with a small floral pattern. It’s high waisted, but because my chest is so big, it looks empire-waisted on me. The front top resembles a corset with hook and eye closures, but the thin material isn’t too tight. The bottom hem lands right above my knee. The skirting has two layers of the same thin fabric from the top creating a fuller effect. Thank goodness, I didn’t wear this yesterday. I leave my hair down, long and wavy. It’s not too frizzy, so I’m happy with it. I want to look nice for Masen, so I add a little eyeliner to my mascara and blush to my cheeks before smacking on some vanilla lip balm. I’ve already repainted my nails a deep dark purple, so I grab my boots and go find Masen.
I hear him speaking to someone before I find him. His voice is calm, relaxed. He’s either on the house phone or whoever he’s talking to is here because I still have his cell. I stop walking and think about him. I’m trying to use my senses to see if I can strengthen them. I close my eyes. He’s in the living room; I know that much. I’m not sure how I know, but I do. The only emotion I feel is contentment. A small bubble of happy surfaces, almost like a laugh. I smile at his happy thought, whatever it was. I can still hear the low cadence of his voice but not the words.
Giving up, I head to the living room. His back is to me. The phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he uses his hands in front of him. It sounds like he’s pouring a drink. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll see you there.” He disconnects. “Hey, Little One,” he says before turning. He does have a short rounded glass in his hand with a few inches of an amber liquid. When my eyes move up to his, I see desire etched in his features, hooded eyes and lips parted. His top teeth sink into his full bottom lip as his gaze goes from my face to my bare feet then back up. He widens his legs and adjusts himself. I’ll be damned if it’s not one of the hottest things ever to know I caused that reaction. “Love looking at you, baby, but I’m not sure you should wear the dress, yeah. You got any sweatpants? Maybe a sweatshirt? It’s too warm for a coat.” The end comes out more to himself. “What about that really long dress from yesterday? That one touched your toes. I like that dress and the sweater, you had a sweater,” he’s rambling.
It’s so stinking cute. I shake my head. He’s still in his jeans and t-shirt. I know he’ll be the most handsome man in the room, and he’s worried about someone seeing my legs? He’s kinda crazy, but it makes me feel good.
“Masen, I love you. Are you ready?”
He starts to turn his head but keeps looking at me. I can hear him mumbling. “Let’s go.” He sighs like it’s such a burden. When we reach the front, I drop my boots and grab his arm to slide them on. He stops when I touch his arm and looks down. “Are you kidding me with the boots?”
No, he didn’t. “Masen, these are my favorite boots. You better watch it,” I say seriously.
He shakes his head. “Baby, you have no idea how sexy you look, and then, you add those damn boots. All I’m going to be thinking about is fucking you with them on. Just pray no one else opens their fucking mouth.” He keeps mumbling under his breath as he grabs my hand and tucks it into his elbow.
CHAPTER21
Masen and I walk to the hall. The weather is perfect, warm with a cool breeze, the humidity has dropped finally. It takes us less than twenty minutes to arrive. I’m a little nervous. All these people have known Masen for years. I want them to like me. Plus, I still don’t have much experience with other shifters, it’s intimidating.
He pulls me in for an embrace before reaching forward to open the door for me. It’s not the same door I used a few days ago, it’s around the back of the building. There are a few people dotted around a huge fire pit. Anyone seated stands and nods or raises a hand to Masen in greeting. Before returning to their seat, many look like they’re going to approach, but his surly expression keeps them at a distance.
“They’re going to think you’re miserable, Masen. The way you keep mean mugging everyone that looks at us. I want them to like me, not hate me because their Alpha turned into an unapproachable grump!” The corner of his lips turns up barely displaying a devilish smirk. Well shit, that’s not any better, now, all these women will be fantasizing about his mouth. Goodness, I’m just as bad as he is.
I’ve never been in a bar, but this is pretty much what I expected, lots of tables, a couple booths, and a long bar that runs all along one wall. Stools line the high counter, most are full. I can see a beautiful redhead tending the bar with an equally redheaded male working beside her. They must be brother and sister.
There are a few empty tables. The people seem to group together; everyone looks friendly with each other. As the door closes behind us, every head turns almost in unison as we enter. “That’s not at all creepy,” I say in a hushed tone. Masen chuckles.
Again, they all stand out of respect until he motions for them to sit. With a hand on my back, he ushers me to a dark, corner booth. “Why are we sitting way over here?” I ask looking around to the empty tables surrounding us. “This is weird, Masen. Everyone is staring at us, but no one’s talking to us. This is how I felt at school. Do they always stay away like this?”
Everyone is indeed staring at us. There are more men than women, but the groups are mixed. From what I can tell, most of the men wear jeans, while the women are dressed in slinky dresses, miniskirts, and cropped tops. A few wear pants with revealing shirts. One thing they all share is the heels. Not one woman besides me is wearing less than a four-inch heel. They’ve all got me beat by four inches before the heels. I feel like I’ve been transported to the land of Amazonians.
Masen urges me into the booth and scoots in close behind me. When I try to keep scooting, he puts his heavy arm over my shoulder, stopping me before I reach the middle of the booth. The way we’re seated, I can’t even see the rest of the bar. His big body is on the outside of mine, blocking me.
I huff. “Masen, should we just leave? Obviously, you’re not comfortable here or with me here.”
His body relaxes a tiny bit, and he turns his head and looks down at me guiltily. “I’m trying to adjust. I don’t really like them looking at you. This is hard for me, too. I want to hurt them,” he growls slightly and clenches his fists. I place my hand over his and bring it under the table to the top of my thigh. “So, it’s best if we stay over here for now.” I can feel his restrained violence. I stroke his hand and arm under the table reassuringly.
“Do all males get a little... ah, territorial in the beginning?”
He’s still looking down at me. I see when his eyes soften. “It just depends, Little One. I’m sure it’ll get better after we’ve Mated fully,” he says unconvincingly. He runs his hands through his hair. “It’s actually gotten worse since those fuckers at the mall!” he spits angrily. “I’ll deal with it, baby. Don’t worry.” He smiles.
Masen’s head turns to the bar, and he nods once. Moments later, the pretty, redheaded barmaid nears our table with a big smile and two menus. “Hi, I’m Lizzy. Everyone calls me Red. I’ve been so excited to meet you!” She gushes, I can’t help but smile back.
“Are you Sid’s Red?” I ask tentatively.
Her eyes light up, and her smile gets a little bigger. “Oh yes. I’m his,” she states proudly. She places the menus down and looks at Masen for the first time. She goes a little pale. “Alpha,” she clears her throat, “what can I get you to drink?” She looks right at Masen.
In his deep, low timbre, he asks, “What would you like, Little One?” I’ve never had alcohol. I’m not sure what to get. He realizes quickly and says, “We’ll have a white and red wine, and I’ll have my usual. Thanks, Red.”
She exhales when he speaks. Her bubbly demeanor back, she chirps, “I’ll get those right out,” and dashes to the bar.
“Why did she get so freaked out?”
His hand under the table squeezes my thigh. “Sometimes, I forget you’ve never been in a pack. She didn’t address me first. I’m her Alpha. If I address her, which I did by nodding for her to come over, she should always show respect. It’s not a big deal. I’ve never cared too much. It’s just the way packs work. Tradition, I guess.” He shrugs.
We look over the menu, and Red returns with our drinks. “I brought a water, too, sweetie,” she says, talking to me.
