Page 101 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

It was the only thing I could think of to tell her. I couldn’t tell her Stephanie had died while defending the pack from rogues during an attack. She’d been one of our best warriors, so she’d been one of the first to jump into the fray for every attack we had the year we had a major problem with rogues in the area.

She nodded again as I looked back at her. “So, why THAT specific fire pit?” she asked.

“Well, it was an equal distance from it to that playground, that volleyball net, and the water,” I said, pointing to each location as I mentioned it. “The playground for Maddie, obviously, since she is so much younger than the rest of us, the volleyball court for us, and the water for everyone.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of fond memories of this place,” she murmured as we walked onto the pier, the echoing of our footsteps on the boards almost drowning out her voice.

I nodded, enjoying the sound of the water under our feet as it echoed against the pier and savoring the smell of the sea air.

“I do,” I confirmed, pulling her into my side and wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “And now I have some new memories to add to them.”

Goddess, damn it, cheesy Wes had struck again. I groaned internally, but the smile on her face told me I’d said the right thing.

We reached the restaurant on the pier and ordered our food after a brief wait in line, then took it to the railing, where we ate and continued talking.

“So, how did you end up with Maya as your roommate?” I asked her.

“Peter made a social media group for the company members and other employees and added us to it as they hired us. I made a post asking if anyone was looking for a roommate because I couldn’t afford the rent on an apartment by myself, even a studio, and Maya was the only one who responded.”

“Of course she was.” I chuckled.

Haven laughed as well. “I know. She told me later she didn’t even need a roommate for financial reasons, but she’d never lived alone and was hating it, and it had only been a week or so when I made my post.”

My lips twitched, and I nodded. It wasn’t surprising Maya hated living alone. She was a werewolf. We lived in packs. It was part of our nature to want others around us almost all the time. Plus, she’d grown up with a twin, meaning she was even more used to having someone around all the time.

“Maybe fate had a hand in it, too?” I asked.

“It was just coincidence, Wes,” she said with a shake of her head as she finished her fish and chips.

“Was it, though?” I grabbed her trash and mine and tossed it in the trash can. “I mean, I still can’t believe you didn’t even realize you were that close to where I live.”

“Honestly? I was so glad to leave Salt Lake and be truly independent that I jumped at the first job offer I received that was far away. I didn’t even do any research other than plane ticket costs.” She shrugged as I came back to her side and tucked her body under my arm. “I think if I knew it was near you, I actually would have turned it down,” she confessed.

I breathed out a sigh and pulled her closer, pressing my nose into her hair. “I’m glad I didn’t, though,” she added, leaning her body into mine. “I’m glad I came to California.”

“I am too,” I murmured against her head.

I wrapped my other arm around her and kissed the top of her head as she stared out at the ocean and the sun setting on the horizon.

The breeze from the water swirled around us, whipping some loose strands of her braid into the air. Her natural scent of jasmine mixed with the lingering scent of sunscreen and the salt of the sea on her skin, creating a heady, intoxicating perfume my lycan kept making me inhale. He rolled around on his back in my mind, like a cat who had just sniffed catnip.

And I was just as affected by it as he was. It was addicting. I wanted to roll around in it too, wanted to embed it into my skin and my clothing so I could breathe it in all the time. I wanted to be selfish and hide her away so I didn’t have to share her scent with anyone else.

I didn’t bother trying to calm myself, my lycan, or my growing desire for her. There was no use denying it, no use fighting it, no use hiding it from her. She knew how I felt about her. Or at least I hoped she did.

My hand traveled up to her neck, leaving little goosebumps on her skin and making her breath hitch. I tilted her chin until her head was angled perfectly for my lips to kiss hers, our eyes locking for a moment before our mouths touched.

Like at her apartment the night of our date, there was so much unsaid in that one look we shared. That night, it was us admitting there was a connection, that there was something there—a spark or a tiny flame—that we wanted to explore and bring to life. But this look, the one we shared on the pier, was so much more.

It was the recognition of something deeper. It was the undeniable truth, an agreement, that what we felt wasn’t something small anymore.

Her blue eyes sparkled, and her red hair burned against the backdrop of the sunset, taking my breath away and setting my heart aflame.

I lowered my mouth to hers, and her answering kiss was the response to the question I didn’t even need to ask her. Our lips moved in perfect sync, twisting and pouting and teasing without pause. Her body melted against mine, and I held her there, reveling in the feel of her soft lines meeting the hard, muscular planes of my chest. Our hearts beat in unison, sending ripples of anticipation through me.

She broke away first, catching her breath, her eyelids fluttering. “Kissing on the beach at sunset? Kind of cliché, don’t you think?” she asked in a whisper.

I dipped my head and nipped at her earlobe. “Hush, Sugar Plum, you’re ruining the moment,” I chastised.

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