Page 91 of Eight Steps to Alpha

“Like a wounded—” He could barely get the word out. “PUPPY?”

She closed her eyes, then pushed her hair back from her face. “Look, last night was fun and all, but like I said, everything needs to go back to normal. We fucked, that’s all. I’m sorry I let it happen.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he pulled in a breath through his nose. Fun and all? We fucked? A wry laugh escaped his mouth and he threw the truck into drive again. The echoes of their argument became faint whispers that filled him with panic. Words that cut up his insides, that made his foot a little heavier on the accelerator as he merged back into traffic. How had they gone from last night’s love making, to this morning’s conversation? How could she be so cold, when only hours ago things had been so hot.

But he didn’t ask any more questions, and the truck was cast into a painful silence for the three hours it took to get back to their apartment. When he stepped into the living room, dropping his bag of clothes at the entryway floor, Colton’s suitcase was on the arm chair. Overflowing with clothes and toiletries. He thought about Fe’s question on the way home, and knew Colton was the cause of it. Knew his brother had told her everything.

How dare his brother talk to her about his life. How dare he share something so personal. But maybe Colton thought she would’ve know. Maybe Fe was right, and that after five years, he should have told her.

Continuing to his room, he stepped out of his shoes, hearing Fe enter the apartment behind him. He gripped his skull, feeling restless, and agitated, and hurt. Visions of last night, blurred with this morning’s argument, and he couldn’t think straight. How could she be so sweet one minute, then cold as ice the next?

Moving to his closet, he dug out the running shoes and sat on the edge of the bed to put them on. But Fe appeared at the door, and he froze.

“Did you need something?” He looked up at her.

She only stood there, holding onto each side of the doorframe. “I need for you to not be mad at me for this.”

“For this? For what? Because we fucked?”

“Elliot,” she said pleading, and he could hear the hurt in her voice, see it in her face.

“I’m not mad,” he whispered. Because the vulnerability he felt in his gut wasn’t anger. It was something far more damaging. He was hurt, and broken, and all sorts of other things, but…he wasn’t mad. He could never really be angry with Fe.

She looked at him, her teeth pressed together. “I never meant to hurt you.”

He pushed himself from his bed, and turned toward his dresser. “I’m fine.”

“Last night was amazing, I want you to know that. You’re good at what you do.”

He tore off his old t-shirt, threw it to the laundry, then pulled a new one over this head.

“Your penis is beautiful, Elliot. Truly. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

He stopped, turned to face her and laughed. “What did you just say?”

“It’s true.” She nodded.

He rubbed over his face with both hands, finding himself both confused, but amused at the same time. “Sometimes I don’t understand you, Fe.”

Her voice was shaky and uneven. “Join the club.”

“What do you want from me?” he said then, turning around to face her. He had nothing to lose. Take him or leave him, it was her decision.

Her mouth turned down at the corners, and she stepped slightly forward “I want you to be my best friend.”

His jaw tightened. “Is that all?”

She paused for a moment, as though assessing what his words meant, but then she nodded, looking him right in the eye. “Yes.”

He looked down to the floor, unable to suppress his hurt. “Okay.”

She pulled in a shaky breath, “Thank you. Thank you for last night, thank you for understanding.”

He flexed his jaw again, trying to find something to say that would ease the tension between them. “Thanks for the compliment about my penis.”

She laughed. “You’re welcome.”

“But it’s a cock.”

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