Page 51 of The Beta's Blind Date

“I actually grew up in Sunrise Canyon in Southern California. I moved here a little over a year ago.”

“Hmm,” he says, setting the bottle down. “I’m sure I’ve seen you around.” He drums his fingers on the table and stares at the candle, his brow furrowing as he thinks. “Were you at Crescent Lake today, by any chance?” he asks, tilting his head.

“I was.”

He snaps his fingers. “That’s it. I saw you there today. Our pack and Crescent Lake have an alliance—Alpha Benjamin and Alpha Wesley are good friends, I guess—and we do a sort of warrior contest between our packs every year. All in good fun, of course. No real prizes. We had a joint training today before the first event tomorrow.”

“I’ve been coming down the hill to do some extra training there with Reid.” His brows raise, and his eyes flick up at me as he pulls his wine closer to him. “I mean, Beta Reid.”

It’s fine for me to address Reid in an informal manner when we are together, but I shouldn’t be speaking of him in that casual way. It’s a matter of respect. It’s why we all address Luna Merina as “Luna,” even though she hasn’t been the luna of our pack for ten years, since Dominic took over for his father after he passed away unexpectedly.

“Ah, okay. I must have seen you there, then. I never forget a face, especially not one as beautiful as yours.”

I give him that same half smile, a reluctant, fake chuckle leaving my body. He stares at me, brows raised again. I clench my teeth, my jaw ticking, as he waits. Waits for me to return the compliment. Waits for me to tell him a lie.

I feel nothing when I look at him. Nothing. His green eyes are dull compared to Reid’s bright blue ones that dance and tease. His dark brown, shiny, slicked-back hair is too perfect compared to Reid’s messy-on-purpose dark blond tresses. And although I can see he has a muscular build, he has nothing on Reid. Reid could flatten him like a pancake.

“Thank you,” I mumble, not attempting to boost his ego.

He isn’t terrible looking. If I didn’t know Reid, if I hadn’t gone on a date with him, or gotten to feel his hardened warrior body against my own, or gotten to know the kind and honest soul underneath those muscles, I may have been attracted to Kent.

But he isn’t Reid. He isn’t the male I am falling harder for with every moment we spend together. He isn’t the male that draws me in like a moth to a flame. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t have Reid that I want him so badly.

His hand clenches into a fist on the table, then he reaches for his wineglass, gulping down several sips of it. I don’t bother to hide my eye roll. This guy needs a reality check.

I hope our food gets brought out to us soon. The sooner this date is over, the better. I’m not even interested in staying for dessert. I’d rather grab a milkshake from Scoops Ahoy on my way back up the hill than spend a minute longer than necessary with Kent just to get some cannoli. Not worth it.

The silence between us drags out, awkward and obvious. I continue to fiddle with my necklace, sipping my water, as he continues to drink more wine, refilling his glass for a second time.

“Is there no bread?” I ask, trying to ease the tension and make some sort of conversation. “I swear I smelled fresh baked bread when I entered the restaurant.”

“I told them not to bring us any.”

“Why?”

“Females always complain about carbs.”

“But you didn’t ask me if I wanted any,” I say.

“You don’t need it,” he replies, shaking his head and flicking his eyes down to the edge of the table, aimed at my thighs he can no longer see.

“Excuse me?” I ask, but he’s already turned away, his head following a pair of long, tanned legs in a black leather skirt across the dining area of the restaurant. I slap my thighs, encased in my purple bodycon dress. “Maybe you missed the part where I said I was a warrior? This is muscle. This is from hard work and dedication to fighting and training every day for the last eight years, since my first shift at fourteen.”

“You’re not a warrior, though,” he points out, huffing out a dry laugh and sneering at me over the top of his wineglass. “Not yet. You said so yourself. Your ‘hard work’ must not have been that hard.”

I breathe in through my nose, nostrils flaring. I open my mouth, ready to rip him a new one, to explain to him I would be a warrior if not for douches like him who think they know best, but he continues talking before I can say anything.

“I can see why you’re single. You’re mouthy, rude, and opinionated. And you haven’t touched the wine I spent good money on for us. I better at least get a blowjob after this meal, so I can show you how to put that mouth to better use.”

Blood rushes in my ears, red flashes in my eyes, and my usually quiet wolf snaps her jaws and snarls in my head. But I don’t let him see the fury boiling inside me. I keep my face cool and indifferent, keep my voice level and even.

“I’m single because I value myself, and I have standards, something you clearly do not have,” I say, standing from my seat and grabbing my purse and my coat. “And I told you, I don’t drink. But you can have this back if it’s that big of a deal to you.”

I pick up my untouched wineglass and toss the contents into his face, smiling as he gasps and sputters and blinks. The wine soaks into his shirt like blood from a flesh wound, and my wolf preens in my mind, pleased with our show of dominance over this cocky dickhead male.

“I’d say it was nice to meet you, but my aunt Gigi says it’s bad manners to lie. I hope you find that blowjob you’re looking for. Maybe that leather mini skirt you were ogling as she walked to the bathroom would be willing to give you one before you drive back home.”

I shoulder my purse and don’t bother putting my coat on. I’m too focused on getting out of there and getting home. “Don’t message me again,” I say, turning on my heel and walking out of the restaurant, leaving him gaping and dabbing at his wine-stained shirt with a napkin.

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