Page 57 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

“I’ll take the grilled chicken pesto sandwich,” she spat out, then moved to the only table available—a standing one right near the hand-off bar.

I smiled at the barista and handed her my card, then joined Haven after I finished paying.

“You didn’t have to pay,” she muttered.

“Of course I did,” I grumbled back. “I invited you here. It’s only polite.”

“Technically, I invited you.”

“TECHNICALLY. I invited you first,” I pointed out. “And you stood me up.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but the server set her sandwich down in front of her, so she closed her mouth and tried to smile at them. “Thank you,” she said.

“So you owe me,” I finished as the server walked away.

“Seriously, Wes?” I nodded. “Fine, but it’s not a date.”

“Says who?” I asked, moving around the table to stand closer to her.

She ignored me and took a bite of her sandwich, staring out the window to avoid my eyes.

“Who said this wasn’t a date, Haven?” I asked again, coming right up next to her, my chest brushing her arm with each inhale.

I pretended not to notice the little shiver that ran through her body or the goosebumps that appeared on her forearm just below her pushed-up sleeves.

“What if I want it to be a date?” I asked, leaning down towards her ear.

She turned to look at me. Her nose almost touched mine, and her pupils dilated as we made eye contact.

She moved forward until her lips were just across from mine, her tongue darting out to lick them, and my eyes tracked the movement, my cock twitching as it grew hard again.

“Then I would say it’s very presumptuous of you to assume I would even want to date you,” she cooed, then turned away from me and took a very large, very unladylike bite of her sandwich.

The scent of roasted garlic wafted towards me as she set the sandwich back on the plate, and I was grateful that at that exact moment, the barista called my name for our drinks. As adorable as she was chewing her sandwich the way a wolf would, and as much as I wanted to be as close to her as she’d allow, the garlic scent made my nose itch and my eyes water. Kissing her after this date was probably off the table.

Well, it was off the table, anyway. She wasn’t a wolf. She was human. They didn’t move as quickly as we did when they were in relationships. I needed to keep reminding myself of that. And my lycan.

I picked up our drinks and brought them back to the table, testing the weight of my cappuccino as I handed Haven her latte.

“Oh, good! They got the foam right this time!” I exclaimed, and she raised a brow at me. “Usually, they skimp on the foam,” I explained. “Lots of people don’t like foam, and I don’t understand why they order a cappuccino if they don’t like the foam. If you want more milk, just order a latte. The ratio of the espresso to milk to foam is what makes it a cappuccino.”

And I was rambling. A-fucking-gain. About foam, of all things. Fucking steamed milk. Haven smiled at me with her brows still raised as she sipped her latte. I probably sounded like a pompous windbag.

“How do you know so much about football?” I asked to change the subject and steer us away from my coffee proclivities.

“My adopted parents are BYU fans,” Haven answered as she set her cup down. “They had season tickets every year. I had to learn, or it would have bored me to death.”

She frowned a bit and looked at her cup, turning it side to side on the tabletop.

“What?” I asked, immediately concerned and on alert.

She shook her head at me and ate the last bite of her sandwich. I blinked and held in my “I told you so” to her. She must have been starving to have finished that whole sandwich that fast.

But I was more worried about what had made her so upset. She may have brushed it off, but I could see in her eyes she wasn’t okay. My lycan was on edge, too, ready to defend and protect what we had both decided was ours.

I moved closer to her again, only this time it was to hide her face from the rest of the cafe and offer her some comfort and safety instead of to push her buttons and tease her.

“You can talk to me, Haven,” I breathed. “You can trust me,” I added, covering her hand on the coffee cup with my own, stilling her anxious movements.

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