Page 19 of Alpha Chase

I fold my arms again and level her with a stare. “Vanessa.”

“Vienna.” She mimics my stern tone.

I lunge toward her in another attempt to grab for her phone, but she’s quick to yank it away, holding it high above her head out of my reach and sticking out her tongue teasingly.

I blow a stray hair out of my face, huffing in indignation. “I thought there were no secrets between us?”

Nessa rolls her eyes, sighing as she lowers her phone. “Fine, if you must know… it’s Callum.”

I scrunch my nose in confusion, and it takes a moment for my brain to process who the hell it is she’s talking about.

“Cal?!” I blurt, eyes flying wide.

Nessa grins slyly, glancing back down at her phone screen again.

I shake my head, lifting a hand to rub my temple. “Oh you’ve gotta be shitting me. Why the hell are you textingCal?”

“Because he texted me,” she shrugs, acting so nonchalant that I wonder if she’s lost her damn mind. “It would’ve been rude to not respond.”

“You gave him your number?” I ask dubiously. Nessa never gives her number out to guys, even when they’re begging for it. The fact that she gave it to Cal, of all people, only makes this whole thing weirder.

A coy smile comes to her lips. “Not exactly.”

“What does that even mean?” I heave an exasperated sigh, shaking my head again. I don’t know why she’s being so cagey about this, but my head still feels like it’s being squeezed in a vise and I don’t have the energy to try to decode her vague responses.

She shrugs again, so fucking casual. As if texting a guy she barely knows is normal behavior for her. News flash: it isn’t. In fact, it’s so far from her normal behavior that I’m questioning my own reality right now.

“We got to talking about music last night and I handed him my phone to scroll through one of my playlists. I didn’t even know he’d sent himself a text until I got one back from him this morning.”

I arch a brow. “So hestoleyour number.”

She just shrugs again.

“Well I guess that makes more sense,” I say. “Seems on-brand for someone like him to just take without asking. I’m surprised you messaged him back, though, he doesn’t seem like your type.”

“If I’ve never dated before, can I reallyhavea type?”

Nessa is a hopeless romantic; always has been. There’s no shortage of guys pining over her, but she’s always held onto this fairytale of finding her fated mate and riding off into the sunset with him. Which is precisely why her comment gives me pause.

“Wait…” I blink, studying her expression. This is way too much for my aching head to process right now. “Are you saying you’re consideringdatinghim?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Of course not. I’m just…” she glances down at her phone screen, her smile widening at an incoming message. “Talking. That’s all.”

Just the thought of Cal gives me a prickly feeling. I shudder, staring intently into my friend’s eyes. “Be careful, Ness. That guy seems dangerous. He gives me the creeps.”

“Oh whatever,” she says, waving me off dismissively. “He’s just a guy. I can handle myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” I reply quickly. “But none of those dudes are‘just a guy’. They’re trouble.”

Nessa narrows her eyes on me, resting a hand on her hip. “Since when areyouone to run from trouble?”

She’s got a point. I’ve got a weakness for bad boys- the last guy I dated was a squad fighter who was covered in tattoos and drove a motorcycle.

“I’m not looking to get involved with anyone right now,” I sigh, turning away and heading back for the storage room. “I’ve got my own shit to figure out.”

“Really?” Nessa clucks, following me. I lift a case of beer from the stack and turn at the waist to hand it to her. “Then what were you doing cozying up to Levi all night, hm?” She tilts her head, arching a brow.

“Please.” I roll my eyes, grabbing another case and lifting it. “He’s just another fuckboy. He’s fun to flirt with, but that’s as far as it’ll go.”

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