Page 17 of The Alpha's Forced Rejected Mate

I bowed my head. “You’re right, Robby. I should have been more enthusiastic about you when I had you. That was my mistake. That’s entirely on me.” I met her gaze with brute determination. “I will honor our match by staying by your side and proving to you that I’m worthy of being your mate.”

Several stiff minutes passed as we stared into each other’s eyes. Those yellow irises never looked so ferociously thoughtful. I watched as she mentally chewed on everything I had presented, a tiny twitch erupting in the left side of her jaw as she abruptly turned away.

“Fine,” she exhaled forcibly, “but don’t bother us, alright? And don’t do that snooping thing you like to do. I know exactly how everything is placed in this home. Do you get that?”

I smiled with familiarity. “Yes, Robyn. I understand.”

Chapter 6 - Robyn

Things weren’t easy, like Sunday morning when I jumped out of bed in a cold sweat. Half the blanket clung to my body—and when I inspected my feet on the soft carpet, I noticed half my socks were off. Strange. I never thrashed around in my sleep. I must have had a nightmare or something.

A few quiet minutes went by as I breathed in and out, trying not to think, trying to get myself back to the waking world. Images flashed in my mind. The cliff, the tall brush on either side that opened to two individual paths, and then the tiny cluster of rocks at my feet that kicked up when I walked.

I touched my lips. Cliff kissed me last night. He actuallykissed mein the kitchen for the first time in three, almost four years. I peeled the blanket from my body and slowly lowered myself on the bed. More images returned from my dream. And they weren’t a nightmare either. They were much worse.

That fool. That jerk.

He looked good in a Christmas sweater. In my mind, at least, it made his long hair look hippie-dippie, and his eyes bristle with more of a greenish hue than their usual hazel-brown. More than that, he looked good as a father, especially to Sydney. Each scene that returned to my memory of what I had dreamed was infinitely better than the last, taking us from a merry Christmas into an elegant New Year and a celebratory summer bonfire.

Those were things I had been wanting for years.

No wonder I was sweating.

“You’re making a mess,” came a voice from downstairs. “Alright, easy now.”

I cleared my throat and hopped out of bed, losing my socks on the way to the doorway. I drifted toward the staircase, peering down at a small square of carpet.

“Mommy will love this.”

Warmth swirled in my chest as I descended the stairs slowly, repeatedly pushing my hair behind my ears as I brushed it out with my fingers. I fixed my nightshirt, made of the softest cotton known to this dimension, which had a giant picture of a coffee cup with the phraseMean Mugwritten in whacky, bubbly letters. The pink shirt fell to my knees, but one side was stuck on my underwear, revealing my right leg and part of my floral panties.

I tugged the nightshirt down, smoothed my hands down the front, and fixed my hair again. At the bottom of the steps, I took a steadying breath.Look like you just woke up. I squared my shoulders and shook out my hair.I mean, I did just wake up. I mean, I probably didn’t need to brush my hair, but—

Something thick and heavythwackedthe ground. “Uh oh.”

I darted into the kitchen to find Sydney and Cliff hovering near the stove with matching expressions of sorrow. On the ground next to them was a giant bag of flour. Dusty white clouds clung to the air, dissipating as the mess settled on the tile floor. I stared at it for a while, trying to summon my usual reaction to a Sydney Mess.

My mouth opened and closed silently like I was a fish trapped in a sardine can. Cliff turned authoritatively to Sydney, who was standing on a stepping stool that she often used to reach the sink. She loved helping me with the dishes. By the soapy suds piled around the metal sink and the tiled ground below it, I guessed she attempted to do the dishes by herself.

Cliff cleared his throat. “Uh, Sydney, that was clumsy. I mean, that was naughty.” He glanced hesitantly at me. “And uh, go get the broom?”

The awkward expression on his face split into a silly grin. I exploded with laughter. The more I laughed, the more I hugged my stomach, the more I bent into myself as I tried to get my giggling fit under control. Nothing was funnier than stumbling across Cliff, of all fuckboys in this world, trying with all his might to be aferocious father. His tone was too playful. His countenance was uncertain. His pose mimicked what a disappointed parent might do but didn’t seem genuine.

I pointed at him. “You haveno idea what you’re doing.”

Cliff’s brows furrowed while he tried to keep his smile. “What?”

“That was straight out of a sitcom.”

“Robyn, if you keep laughing like that, you’re going to split your sides.”

I wheezed, coughed, snorted, and then wheezed again as I tried to get my laughter under control. Sydney chuckled hysterically along with me; her chubby cheeks reddened with amusement as she hobbled into the living room to get the broom out of the hall closet. She returned with the giant broom clutched to her chest sideways with the dustpan on her head.

Now, Cliff was roaring with laughter. Sydney beamed at us, totally satisfied with her performance. She waddled over to Cliff, handed him the broom with the dustpan, and stepped aside to watch him scoop up the mess. Helpful as she was, she kept kicking small mounds of the flour around the kitchen, causing Cliff to stumble after her with the dustpan to catch every last cloud.

I leaned against the kitchen table and watched the two rugrats scuddle around the kitchen like lost ducks. Sydney chirped while pointing out another flour mess, and then she shuffled right through to point out another one, creating yet abiggermess for Cliff to collect. Ten minutes later, I was brewing coffee while Sydney set napkins on the table. Tiny granules of flour stuck to my toes, but I didn’t mind it. I didn’t care.

What I had witnessed was far too adorable to get mad over a little spilled flour.

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