Page 96 of Chosen Beta

I’m going to have to make time to download a dating app.

There’s no other solution.

The thought of slogging through endless fuckboy profiles makes me cringe, but maybe I shouldn’t be writing those guys off, at least not while I’m hopelessly horny and way too interested in a pack of men who already have each other.

I take a ridiculous amount of time making sure my night dress covers what it needs to before I give up on making a graceful exit from the bed.

“Turn around,” I tell him.

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“I need to get up, and I’m not wearing panties, so unless you want to see my …”

He turns around, smacking his arm against the wall as he does it.

At least now I know he really isn’t interested in my lady parts.

I’d kind of assumed that since he’s in an all-male pack, even if it’s a bit presumptuous.

Pete clearly still appreciates the female form despite not having a female mate.

I wouldn’t know what the rest of his pack are into.

Getting up, I move quickly over to the dresser.

“Just give me a minute to grab some clothes. You can turn around when I close the bathroom door.”

Maybe I should have given him a chance to use the bathroom first, but it’s not like I’m used to having an overnight visitor. I make sure I’m not wasting any time when I get into the bathroom.

I run through my usual routine at a quickened pace, not cutting corners but moving a little faster at every step. With the exception of slowing down to shave my legs, and again to make sure I don’t make a mess of my makeup, I get ready as quickly as I can.

When I’m ready to get moving, I leave the bathroom in the black pants and cream shirt combo I pulled from my drawers without really thinking about.

I step into my heels, and then I switch off the lamp.

“You can use the bathroom, if you need …” I offer.

He nods and I move to sit on the end of the bed to let him pass.

He doesn’t close the door fully.

I don’t see anything.

And I hum under my breath to try and avoid concentrating on the sound of what he’s doing in there. I’m going to have to charge my phone when I get to my desk. The battery’s almost dead.

When I hear the flush, my shoulders relax.

The faucet starts up a few seconds later.

He’s actually taking the time to wash his hands.

I give him an expectant look when he steps back out of the bathroom.

“I assume nothing happened while I was sleeping last night?”

His expression stays neutral as his gaze meets mine. “No one tried to get in.”

“That’s because no one’s out to get me,” I tell him, knowing that’s not completely true.

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