Page 52 of The Alpha Under My Bed

My stomach flipped, but I ignored it, ignored everything except the quiet clink of plates as he slid breakfast in front of me, the faint smell of eggs and coffee pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.

I could survive a weekend.

Couldn’t I?

Before I could second-guess myself, I reached for my phone on the table. The screen was dark, notifications waiting just beneath the surface, unseen but inevitable. My fingers hovered over the power button, but I didn’t want to see them. Didn’t want to feel my stomach drop at another message I couldn’t respond to. Not now.

With a deep breath, I powered it off and slid it face down on the table.

Mal’s eyes flickered to it, just for a second, before his smirk returned, knowing and teasing. “Trying to live in the moment?”

“Trying not to ruin my morning,” I muttered, reaching for my coffee.

His smirk deepened. Mal slid into the seat across from me, his expression deceptively relaxed as he dug into his food. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”

I stabbed a piece of egg with my fork, avoiding his gaze. “I just—this is weird, okay? You cooking for me, me waking up here?—”

“Me taking care of you?” he finished smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine as he sipped from his coffee cup, the edges of his mouth curling in amusement.

I bristled, a flush creeping up my neck. “That’s not what I said.”

He smirked, setting the cup down with deliberate slowness. “Didn’t have to.”

I huffed, biting into the food just to silence myself. It was too good—way too good. The warmth of the butter, the rich seasoning, it all wrapped around me like a soft, familiar blanket. I hated how effortlessly comforting it was.

Mal watched me, clearly enjoying my internal struggle. “Not bad, right?”

I swallowed, forcing the words out. “It’s edible.”

He laughed, a low sound full of satisfaction, shaking his head. “High praise coming from you.”

I narrowed my eyes, barely resisting the urge to roll them. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.” He leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Besides, I like knowing I can take care of you better than you can take care of yourself.”

The words hung in the air, thick with challenge, and something else I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I scoffed, shoveling another bite of food into my mouth to avoid responding. “Oh, please. I manage just fine.”

He arched a brow, his gaze sharp, piercing through me. “Right. Because that’s why you had a broken faucet for two weeks before I fixed it. And why you keep forgetting to buy groceries until you’re living off instant ramen and stolen sugar packets from work.”

I scowled, raising my fork in accusation. “That’s called resourcefulness.”

“That’s called barely functioning.”

The challenge in his tone made my heart stutter. There was something about the way he said it—like he knew me too well, like he could see through every little act of independence I puton. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to punch him for it or kiss him. Instead, I just shoved another bite into my mouth, fighting the heat building in my chest.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “And yet, here I am. Still alive.”

Mal’s smirk didn’t waver. “Because I keep you that way.”

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the corners of my lips twitching. I hated that he always made me feel like this—safe, even when everything else in my life was spiraling out of control.

His gaze flicked to the leggings still folded beside me. “You gonna put those on, or are you planning to lounge around in just my shirt all day?”

Heat flared up my neck. “I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t exactly... prepared.”

His smirk deepened. “That’s funny. I was.”

I scowled at him, but the warmth of the food was already spreading through me, making my limbs feel heavier, more reluctant to move.

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