Page 39 of Perfect Alpha

Caroline is understandably busy with a six-month-old baby at home. But we always like to ask her to join us anyway, just in case the stars align.

“I wish,” Caroline replies. “I’m going to hibernate and work from home for the rest of the week. I’m not into the idea of wearing real pants more often than I have to, considering none of them actually fit.”

“You look amazing,” Fiona and I reply in unison.

“And we’ll call you with a juicy update tomorrow,” Fiona promises.

“You guys haven’t even seen Vince,” I complain. “You just want me to dateanyone.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Caroline chirps. “But, for the sake of pretenses, do you have a picture of him?”

“That would be so creepy,” I complain with a groan.

“We didn’t ask how you felt about having a picture of him,” Fiona reminds me, “just if you do, in fact, have one.”

“Ugh,” I cry in exasperation. “I can find one on Facebook. Hold on, you vultures.”

Fiona and Caroline crowd behind me while my feed loads. I’m about to type Vince’s name when Caroline’s voice stops my finger in mid-air.

“Hold on a minute. Who isthat?”

I groan again because the image in question is a memory of a shirtless Cade last summer at a backyard BBQ. Of course, he looks fucking divine, and of course, he’s holding a damn baby.

“No one,” I snap, trying to pull the phone away from Caroline’s greedy, outstretched hands. “Stop it!”

Fiona pins me down and Caroline grabs the phone, clicking on Cade’s profile and scrolling through his pictures. When her awed expression meets mine, her mouth is gaping open.

“Thisis Cade?” she asks.

“Yes,” I admit, keeping my chin tilted defiantly. “So what?”

“Sowhat?” Fiona basically screams. “Have you ever seen him before? He is Chris Hemsworth’s doppelganger! You dated Thor!”

We’re in a low-rise building, so I wonder if it’s safe to jump down. I’d rather have a broken leg than this conversation.

“Yeah, okay, fine, he’s attractive,” I mutter.

“Attractive?” Caroline demands. “We could use him for a contemporary romance cover.”

Burying my face in my hands, I imagine disappearing into Alice’s rabbit hole. “I know, I know. But he’s a total asshole.”

“I’m not sure that matters,” Fiona muses. “You’d only have to say sex words.”

“Thanks, you two,” I reply sarcastically. “You’re so supportive.”

“Vince Ferguson?” Caroline asks, busying herself with snooping through my Facebook friends. “Or Vince Denver?”

“Denver,” I reply snippily.

Vince is the exact opposite of Cade with his surfer boy blonde hair, warm chocolate brown eyes, and an affable smile that has probably never smirked.

He’s an LA transplant and is definitely hot, but my mind trips whenever I consider being with anyone other than Cade.

“Oh, he’s sexy, too,” Fiona states, peering over Caroline’s shoulder. “Damn, Victory, you’re such an in-demandbabe.”

“Cade doesn’t want me,” I remind them patiently. “But you’re right that it’s time to go on a date with Vince. I’ll send him a message as soon as you two busybodies give my phone back and get to work. Don’t you have anything to read?”

“No, nothing,” Caroline deadpans.

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