Page 16 of Cruel Alpha Bully

She giggles, and I realize I’ve never heard her giggle before. The look on her face is excited and bashful all at once.

“I thought it would be a one-time thing, but they begged me to come back. After that, I played almost every night.”

“I would love to hear you play,” I say softly.

She looks up at me, guarding her expression straight away. “I’ll need a piano, then.”

“I’ll find you one,” I swear, meaning it.

We finish dinner, and Gina brings out a chocolate cake she baked. I’m really encouraged by the effort she has put into dinner and taking so much time to talk to me.

Maybe the kiss really did shake something up. For both of us.

By the time we go to bed, she has gone quiet again, but comes to bed with me. I lay there, listening to her breathing, feeling every single one of my muscles strung tight like hot wire.

The urge to reach over and kiss her is almost overwhelming. Her scent floods my senses, and my mind is full of the feel of her curves in my hands. Now that I’ve touched her, tasted her, I know I’ll never get enough of her.

As her breathing slows, I try to relax and let myself drop off to sleep. I can only hope things between us continue to improve, but I think today has been an excellent start.

The next day, Gina wakes up early with me and goes straight into the music store while I open the gym. A short while later, she comes to tell me she got the job and can start the next day. I’m stacking boxes of resistance bands by the counter when she walks in. I turn around, expecting to see a customer, and I’m shocked to see it’s Gina.

“Bae!” she says, breathless with excitement. “I got it! I can start tomorrow morning.”

“That’s great news,” I answer, smiling. “What will you be doing?”

“Normal retail stuff, serving and shopkeeping, but he hired me because of my musical background. A musician can actually engage well instead of just selling stuff, and it might lead to teaching lessons as well.”

“I’m really happy for you, babe,” I say, meaning it. It had never occurred to me that she’d want to work. I can provide for her, and I feel like I should, but working is obviously very important to her.

“I just—” she shakes her head, laughing a little. Then, she jumps up and wraps her arms around me, giving me a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Bae.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I reply. “It was all you.”

My cheek feels like it’s burning from the touch of her lips. I want to touch her again, but she’s stepped back from me as if she’s sorry she hugged me.

Still smiling, though. That’s an improvement.

“Well, okay, but I never thought to ask there,” she says. “It was silly of me, and I’m glad you suggested it.”

I just nod, smiling at her. I’m afraid to shatter her good mood by saying the wrong thing.

“I’ll see you at home,” she says, twirling her hair in one finger and looking up at me with a cute, almost bashful smile.

“You bet, babe,” I say, grinning back.

She hurries out the door, and I watch her go, thinking ahead to seeing her tonight and, hopefully, getting closer to earning her trust.

I’m mesmerized by the way she looks when she’s full of excitement. Her blue eyes seem to glow, and her pale cheeks blush pink. She likes to toy with her long black hair, curling it around her fingers while she talks.

Every moment with her, I’m reminded of how I treated her in high school. I can’t escape it because now, I’m expected to look upon her with appreciation. It seems so stupid to me now that this is what I always wanted to do.

I always loved her quiet manner and soft, stuttering voice. Her pale skin set against the night-dark black of her long, glossy curls enchants me. Eyes so deep and blue that a man could willingly drown in them.

It seems completely insane that I rejected her at all, let alone so brutally. And even more ridiculous that I did it because I was scared of what other people would think.

That night, we cook dinner together, but I notice she is very careful to keep space between us and never allows our bodies to touch, even by accident. Even though she talks to me, she doesn’t open up further about her life before or what she hopes to achieve now.

“I’m going to work on getting you a piano,” I say as we sit down to dinner. I’m trying to open the conversation on a topic I know she’s invested in to see if I can get her to open up.

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