Page 28 of Eight Steps to Alpha

“When?”

“All the time.”

“Give me an example.”

Her stance widened and she cleared her throat. “Shelly. She demanded too much of you.”

He cocked on brow, confused by the mention of his last girlfriend. “Like what?”

“She left stuff here all the time, then called you in the middle of the night and made you take it to her. Even when she knew you had an early class the next day.”

He looked up to the ceiling, hardly able to hide his annoyance. “It was the nice thing to do. What should I have done? Throw it out the window?”

“No. She should have been considerate enough to wait until morning.”

He pushed one finger against his lip, pondering. “Okay, so let’s say that’s true. She should have waited. How is that my fault?”

“Because you should have told her no.”

“She was my girlfriend, Fe.”

“Becca,” she interrupted, ignoring his last statement. “She always brings your order wrong, and you never complain.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not picky. I don’t really care what I eat? Ever think of that?”

She laughed. “We’ve been going there for three years. We leave her good tips, there’s no reason for her to treat you that way.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Stop being so nice!”

“So, I’m too nice, is that it?”

“No.” She shook her head. “There are other things.”

He froze. “What other things? Let’s have it. Tell me all that’s bothering you.”

“The way you walk,” she said with a nod.

He could see it in her eyes. He’d asked for it, and she was going to give it to him. All of it.

He raked his hands through his hair. “My walk? You have a problem with my walk?”

She anchored her hands to her hips. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Okay, what’s wrong with it?”

“Do you want me to show you?”

He tilted his head to the side, then waved his arms across the floor in a silent invitation. “Go right ahead. Be my guest.”

“Fine.” She looked down to the floor, then walked quickly across the room without looking up.

“I do not walk like that.”

“Yes. Yes, you do. Although before last week, you also had a mop of hair covering his face”

“A mop of hair?” His eyes bulged, because he could hardly believe she was saying all this. Fe. His best friend. “Maybe I’m in a hurry, ever think of that?”

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