Page 4 of Eight Steps to Alpha

“Listen, I don’t know how it works in Texas, but in California, we have rules.”

“Rules about the C-word?”

She rolled her eyes. “Listen, both women and men can call a man a pussy. That’s a given. A woman can call another woman a pussy, but a man can’t call a woman a pussy. Well… unless he’s…” She stopped. “Never mind. What I’m trying to say is—under no conditions, none, do you ever use the C-word. It’s disrespectful and demeaning.” She nodded, eyes wide, and brows up on her forehead again.

He shook his head and laughed. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

She plucked a fry from his basket. “It’s science.”

* * *

They continued talkingabout the plan over dinner. A meticulous, detailed, plan that Fe herself was only capable of. She flipped through her catalog of romance novels, every once in a while, stopping to jot down a note or two, but eventually she closed out her device and turned to him. “I just figured out who you remind me of.”

He hadn’t realized he reminded her of anyone, but now he was curious. “Oh yeah?” He grinned. “Who? Is it Ian Somerhalder? Someone once—”

She placed her e-reader back in her purse and shook her head. “The Geek Squad.”

He leaned back in his seat, swallowing the sip of sweet tea before he spit it out. “You mean those guys from the computer store?”

She nodded.

“The ones who drive around in mini vans?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

“That bad?”

She wiped over her mouth, surely to hide her amusement. “Not bad," she argued. “But we can do better.”

He placed his glass on the table, but immediately thought better of it, and took another sip. “Okay, so we cut my hair, I grow a shadow…”

“And new clothes.”

“New clothes?” he objected. “What’s wrong with these?” He glanced down to his brand-new khaki’s and white button up shirt.

“Like I said.” She glanced him up and down. “We can do better.”

He blew out a breath, not wanting to argue, and pointed to her note pad. “Okay, new hair, new clothes… What else?”

She used the pen to toy with her bottom lip, and he immediately looked away. There were many things he had the ability to ignore…like how her eyes crinkled up in the corners every time she laughed, or the delicate way she pushed her hair from her face when she was nervous… but her lips—

“Tattoo,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

He turned to her again, slowly comprehending what she’d just said. “I’m not getting a tattoo.” He chuckled.

“Why not?”

“My Gran would roll over in her grave, that’s why.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “All Alpha’s have tattoos.”

“So?”

“I thought you wanted my help?”

“I do, Fe. I just don’t think ‘Mom’ tattooed across my chest is going to get me there.”

She pressed the pen to her lip again and held back a laugh. “You need me more than I thought, Elliot”

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