Page 20 of Building My Pack

I'm not sure if he's referring to himself or the other two alphas vying for attention, but I find that I like his words.

Violette winks again before telling Kit to put me at one of the VIP tables up front and she'd have a drink brought out to me. He doesn't question her and neither do I about what drink I'm going to be getting. She looks like she's good at her job. After Kit shows me to a table and disappears around the curtain of the stage, I'm surprised to find that I was right about Violette when she sets down a drink that looks amazing and tastes even better. I try to ask her what's going on and where Kit went, but that just earns me a smirk as she ignores me.

Taking small sips of my drink, I glance around, taking in the other people here, but I don't recognize any of them. No one sits at my table either. Even as the room starts to fill up. By the time the curtains open, there isn't an empty table anywhere to be found. There aren't even any seats at the bar, and more than a few people are standing around the sides. As soon as the music starts, it's easy to see why. Kit already looks hot as sin anyway, so I didn't think it could get any better. Then he goes and adds a guitar and I think I'm going to melt into a puddle on the floor. Doesn't hurt that he can actually play it really well too. Up on stage with him is a tattooed, dark-haired guy playing the drums who looks to be closer to my age than Kit is. The one teasing the crowd with his voice has lighter-brown colored hair and he's definitely younger than me by at least four or five years which would put him around Kit's age, too, if I was guessing.

Over the next hour or so, they play nothing but cover songs for old rock music and the crowd seems to eat it up. I have to admit that I'm more than a little impressed, too. That's not saying much since I've never in my life gotten to watch live music. And just like that, this stranger with an obvious heart of studded gold has marked one of the things off my list. It makes my chest feel funny, knowing that he didn't have to do all of the things he did today like listening to my drama and problems. Not only did he listen, but he also put my foot back on the ground by doing something as small as inviting me out to watch his cover band play.

By the time they wrap up their time on stage, I've gone through at least three of Violette's drinks, and I could be wrong, but I think they might be getting stronger the more they progress. One of the bar's waitresses drops off bottles of water to Kit and his friends as they're making their way toward where I'm sitting. I sit back and cross my arms over my chest, pretending to be angry as they take seats at the table.

"You didn't tell me you could play guitar," I accuse.

The three of them laugh, "It's a secret I save for people I've known for more than a couple hours."

I laugh behind my hand. "That's fair."

"This is Bryce, and this is Mitchell and Waylen," he says with a hand motion towards me then the dark-haired drummer and lastly the singer. One look at Mitchell and I already know that he's an alpha. It's clear by how he holds himself. Of course, it helps that the burnt-amber scent coming off him is strong enough to have my half-lit body already leaning towards him. His mustache leads down into a beard that's a couple inches or more below his chin. I never thought I'd be attracted to a bearded man, yet here we are. If anyone had told me a few years ago that I would be, I'd have laughed them out of the room. Especially a beardedalpha.

My gaze locks into his hazel one and a wicked smile grows on his face. Trouble with a capital t, and he knows it. All three of them have about the same body build and height. If it wasn't for Kit and Waylen's shoulders being a tad bit wider with more muscle, they could even be body triplets.

Managing to rip my eyes away from Mitchell, I take a second to admire Waylen, too. His cheekbones are more prominent, and his chin juts out a little further than the other two beneath eyes the color of a swimming pool in the middle of summer. It takes a moment of concentration to get past Kit and Mitchell's scent, but once I do, I'm pleasantly surprised to find the soft cedarwood of an alpha. It makes me want to cozy up next to him just so I can take it back home with me to my nest. Let's just hope that a few more drinks down the hatch won't have me admitting that out loud.

"So, what's a beautiful girl such as yourself doing with someone like our boy Kit, here?" Mitchell teases, slapping Kit on the shoulder.

The three drinks I've already consumed are finally starting to make their appearance in the form of the giggles and loose lips. "Well, he may or may not have saved me from a mental breakdown today. What? Didn't you know your friend moonlights as a therapist?"

They laugh, but there's concern in both of Kit's friends' expressions. "Are you good?" Waylen asks as quietly as possible in the loud room now filled with jukebox music.

I'm glad he didn't ask if I'm okay, because I'm not. Deep down, I know all of these emotions are going to hit the boiling point and burst through the bottle I've got the lid on tight for. However, right now, in this moment, I've just enjoyed my first live music experience and am now the sole attention of three of the hottest guys in the room. Yeah, I'm pretty good, and I tell him such.

He nods, adding, "You're more than welcome to lay it out on the table tonight if you feel like it. We're just as good of listeners as Kit over there. Well...I am. Mitch is a totally different story."

"Ass," Mitchell accuses, sending a playful kick his way under the table.

I laugh, grateful for the distraction, but I tell him anyway, "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'm going to need a few more drinks before I do that."

"That can be arranged," Mitch suggests, standing to go to the bar. With a quick flash of a smile, Kit gets up to follow him.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Waylen asks.

Shaking my head, I state the subject is off limits without having to speak a word, which he grasps pretty quickly.

Nodding, he glances across the room and since I'm completely enthralled and caught up checking him out, I notice when his expression changes to a sweet kind of mischief. "Do you dance?"

"I've actually never tried," I admit.

"What? How can you go...what, twenty-four years without dancing?" he exclaims.

That's cute. Giving me four years below my age when I know I'm probably pushing looking thirty due to all the work stress. When I shrug my reply to him, he stands and reaches out a hand to help me from my seat. I wobble a bit on my small wedges. Thank goodness I'd had the foresight to not wear tall heels tonight.

Leading us over to a square directly in front of the stage which I hadn't noticed before now, where people have started dancing, Waylen stops, spins me in a circle, and then tugs on my arm until our chests are flush against each other.

"I'm going to teach you how to two-step," he says with his lips pressed into my ear. "I'll go slow, just follow my lead, okay?"

Locking eyes with him, I nod before he starts to move us slowly. It becomes clear why they call it the two-step as our feet start to move. When he picks up the pace, I stay caught up with him without stepping all over his toes. Out of nowhere, he pushes at one of my hips while lifting our clasped hands together over my head and spinning me out once then back but with a spin before I'm back in place and our feet are moving again. I laugh because this is so much fun that I can't help myself. The smile that's been resting on his face pulls up even more, making him that much more attractive as it causes dimples in his cheeks.

He keeps us moving the entire song and the next one, too, with a few more of the fancy spins mixed in the middle. The last time he spins me out, he doesn't pull me back in. Instead, I land right into Mitchell's waiting arms.

"Hi," I breathe.

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