Page 74 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

He stepped back, standing even with the door so I could hop out, his jaw clenched, his body held as still as a statue. He was so stiff, I didn’t even think he was breathing.

His sharp inhale as I brushed my shoulder against his chest while walking past him told me he had definitely not been breathing.

“You know, I can open my own car door, Wesley,” I said as he shut the door to the car, and we walked up the path to their house.

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you should,” he muttered, his hand coming to the small of my back, brushing the skin exposed by the low v of my leotard and sending little tingles across my skin.

I reached out and rang the doorbell as we reached the top of the porch steps. “I’m a grown, independent woman and—“

“Trust me,” Wesley said, turning my body towards his and sliding his arm around my waist. “I am more than aware that you’re all grown up now,” he told me in a low voice, angling his face down towards me.

All his restraint from moments before seemed to have dissipated, his intention switching from holding himself back to letting himself loose. He splayed his fingers against my back, pushing my body into his until not even one of our old letters could fit between us.

I couldn’t help it, couldn’t resist the pull towards him. My body melted into his touch, my arms forming a loose circle around his neck, pulling my upper body closer to him. A sigh escaped me, forced out of my body because of the protective, possessive man who had me wrapped in his arms, his touch somehow firm and tender at the same time.

His nose slid along mine, and I closed my eyes, lifting my chin to meet his lips when the door opened behind us.

I jumped and tried to pull away from him, but his arm around my waist held me in place, and his lips twitched with a silent laugh.

“Oh, Wesley! Hi!” Shirley said. “It’s so good to see you! Here. With Haven,” she teased.

“Hi, Shirley,” he greeted, his eyes never leaving my rapidly heating face.

“Don’t you two look so cute together?!”

“MOM!” I exclaimed without thinking, twisting my head to look at her.

I found her looking at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw, which turned into a sad smile. Silver lined her eyes, and my hand came up to cover my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Wesley let my waist go so I could walk over to her, but his hand slid into mine so we were still touching, still connected. “I wasn’t thinking, it just came out and—“

“No need to apologize,” she murmured, waving me off. “You can call us whatever you like.”

I nodded, and Wesley and I followed her inside. Jack sat in the same spot I saw him in last week, with his cane nearby, just as before. Even with all the top-notch physical therapy and treatment he’d gotten when they moved to California, he’d never gained full feeling and control of his right side.

“Hey, Haven!” he called out as we entered. “Wesley,” he added, his eyes dipping down to where Wes’s hand connected with mine and then up to Wesley’s face with a wink.

“Hi,” I said, ignoring his teasing and not calling him Dad or Jack to avoid any further awkwardness.

“Did you just say Haven?”

A very pregnant, very uncomfortable-looking Tiffany walked out of the kitchen, her brown ponytail swinging behind her and a metal water bottle in her hands that she had clearly just refilled.

I squealed—like a preteen girl at a boy band concert—and let go of Wes’s hand and sprinted towards her. Taking care to avoid her massive baby bump, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a huge hug.

She stayed stiff for half a second before she returned my hug. “What the fuck is going on?!” she exclaimed, squeezing me.

“Tiffany!” Shirley scolded. “Language!”

“What? She’s almost twenty-one now, right? I’m sure Haven does her fair share of cursing.” She pulled back to look at me. “Don’t you, Havie?”

“I-um—“

“Oh, I don’t care if Haven hears it. I’m worried about the little ears in your belly!” Shirley exclaimed. “Babies can hear us before they are born. You don’t want to influence her!”

“Mom, if this girl doesn’t come out of me saying ‘fuck,’ then I will be shocked.”

“When are you due?” I asked, changing the subject for her.

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