Page 61 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

“Well, it will be hard to not show since you’re picking me up,” she reminded me.

I chuckled and stepped into her personal space, my body only centimeters from hers, my hand cupping her jaw. “Just be ready,” I commanded. “Wear something nice.”

“Bossy,” she said in a breathy voice, the hairs on her skin standing on edge and her heart stuttering in her chest.

“You like it,” I replied.

“Do I?” Her eyes flashed with a challenge.

I inhaled through my nose, picking up a hint of her arousal from my proximity, my touch, and my aura. I leaned even closer so my lips brushed her ear. “Yes. You do.”

She swallowed, and I moved backwards, watching her as she turned to go into her building.

“Friday!” I called out to her as she stepped through the doorway, and she shook her head and laughed as the door shut behind her.

CHAPTER 22

HAVEN

Friday night could not arrive fast enough, yet somehow, it also arrived too quickly. After rehearsal, I rushed home to shower, knowing I would need as much time as possible for my curls to dry. I used my diffuser, though, which I usually avoided since it was so heavy and a pain in the ass to use.

I kept my towel wrapped around me as I stood in front of my closet, staring at my organized clothes, sorted by style and color. They stared back at me, taunting me, playing on my insecurities. I pushed them down, though. He had asked me on a date. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t interested. And our banter was fun. And the connection between us had been clear.

I pulled out a blue floral maxi dress with spaghetti straps and a slit up the leg, and a pair of white platform wedges, then walked to my dresser. I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a matching white lace bralette and panty set, blushing even though no one was there to see me. I had my doubts our first actual date would get to that level. I hardly knew him, and he didn’t seem the type to push for sex to happen that soon.

But, on the other hand, our chemistry was undeniable. As was my attraction to him. And his to me. I didn’t miss the flirting, the casual touches, or the looks he gave me. None of it was all that subtle. So, I figured it was better to be prepared. Just in case.

I made my way back into the bathroom and got dressed, then put on some light makeup—tinted moisturizer, blush, and a touch of mascara—just to highlight my features. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the door as I shook out my hair, fluffing it and getting rid of any remnants of the crunchy, dried gel and hairspray on my curls, when the memory of Wes’s voice hit me.

“Wear something nice.”

I stared at myself for a long moment, torn. Part of me wanted to wear something nice. To see his eyes light up when he saw me, to do what he said and please him. But a bigger part of me didn’t want to listen to him. He wasn’t in charge. He couldn’t tell me what to do.

I thought for a moment longer, then turned on my heel and went back into my room. I rummaged through my clothes again, pulling out black high-waisted jeans, a gray, slightly cropped, square-neck top with short sleeves, a denim jacket, and my cheetah print flats.

That will teach him to tell me what to do, I thought to myself as I looked over my new outfit in the mirror.

There was a knock on our apartment door, and I took a deep breath. Then another. Then, I walked out to the living room to grab my purse from the hook.

“I thought you were going on a date?” Maya asked as I walked by the couch.

“I am,” I replied with a smile.

She raised one brow at me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe and back. Then she said, “Ooookay,” before turning back to the TV.

I threw my small brown crossbody bag over my shoulder, then opened the door just enough to slip out of it before Wes could say anything.

I turned to look up at him, and I had to pause to drink him in. He looked extra handsome in his dark gray slacks and black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. Both pieces were perfectly tailored to his body, accentuating his toned muscles, and all I could think was that it should be illegal for someone to look that good in their clothes.

And then my next thought was about how he’d look while taking them off. Which was an odd thought for me. I was NOT that type of girl.

His voice tore me away from my casual ogling of his body.

“I thought I told you to wear something nice,” he scolded, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Did you?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“I specifically told you when I dropped you off,” he reminded me, putting his hands in his pockets and stepping towards me.

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