Page 53 of The Alpha Under My Bed

Mal didn’t rush me. He let me eat, kept the conversation light, never once mentioning last night again. It was almost easy to pretend things were normal.

Almost.

When I finished, he took my plate without a word, rinsing it in the sink before turning back to me. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting up.”

I tensed, but before I could argue, he was already stepping behind me, large hands settling on my shoulders.

“Relax, Ellie. Just let me help.”

I stiffened at first, but then his fingers pressed in, kneading slow circles into my muscles, and my brain short-circuited. A groan slipped past my lips before I could stop it.

Mal chuckled, his breath warm against the back of my neck. “That’s what I thought.”

I wanted to argue, but the tension in my shoulders was already melting under his touch, his fingers working out knots I hadn’t even realized were there. I sagged forward slightly, resting my elbows on the table.

“You’re too good at this.”

“Yeah? Maybe I should charge you for it.” His voice was teasing, but the way his thumbs dug in just right made my eyes flutter shut.

“I’m broke.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to owe me,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower, pressing into the curve of my back.

I hummed, too relaxed to fight him. Too warm, too comfortable, too... safe. My eyelids felt heavy, my body sinking into the chair like I could melt right into it.

“I should... I should probably get up...”

His hands stilled, but he didn’t move away.

“Or you could let me take care of you, just a little longer.”

I swallowed, my heart thudding in my chest. The worst part? I wanted to say yes.

His hands moved again, slower this time, like he was memorizing every inch of me beneath his fingertips. I barely registered the way he guided me upright, his grip firm but careful.

“Come on,” he murmured softly, his fingers brushing a few stray strands of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Let’s get you more comfortable.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words caught in my throat as he guided me effortlessly toward the couch. There was no fight left in me, no resistance as he nudged me down onto the cushions. I didn’t argue when he draped the throw blanket over my lap, the fabric warm and soothing against my skin.

The weight of exhaustion hit me all at once, dragging me into the plush softness of the couch, my body sinking into thecomfort like it had nowhere else to go. I closed my eyes for just a moment, grateful for the stillness.

Mal crouched beside me, his presence steady, close. I could feel his gaze on me, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

“You never take care of yourself properly,” he murmured, reaching up to brush his fingers through my hair. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

I let out a breathy laugh, too tired to put up much of a fight. “You act like I’m helpless.”

“Not helpless,” he corrected, his fingers still trailing through my hair in slow, lazy strokes. “Just stubborn.”

My lashes fluttered, my body melting even further into the warmth of the couch.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He chuckled. “And yet, you’re letting me take care of you.”

I wanted to argue, but sleep was already pulling me under, the soft motion of his fingers through my hair lulling me faster than I wanted to admit. The last thing I felt before slipping into unconsciousness was the gentle weight of his hand resting on my head, grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Sixteen

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