Without turning around, I simply wave Sawyer over.
“Hey, kids. How’s it going?” Sawyer greets from behind.
“Sawyer, meet Rick Jiménez. He’s premed and a huge football fan.”
“Is that right?” Sawyer stays just behind me, stretches out his long arm, and shakes Rick’s hand firmly.
“You can never have too many great doctors,” Sawyer says, laying it on thick.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Sawyer. You crushed it in the last game.”
“Thanks,” Sawyer replies, the smile audible in his voice.
I raise my hand toward the server, who turns to me. “Check, please.”
Leaning in close, Sawyer murmurs in my ear, “If you pull money from your purse to pay, I’ll take you over my knee right here and force your scent to make an appearance.”
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you pay, Harper,” Rick says as the server drops the check into his hand.
“That’s a true gentleman,” Sawyer says, feeding Rick’s ego.
I stand up and slip my arms around Rick’s neck, but the low growl thrumming in Sawyer’s chest warns me to step away.
When I pull back sweat beads on Rick’s forehead.
“I’m sorry, Rick. Sawyer’s like an overprotective brother.”
“Brother my ass,” Sawyer snaps.
“Is something going on between you two?” Rick asks.
“Yeah, she’s my mate,” Sawyer says casually now sipping my strawberry cheesecake milk shake.
I glance at Rick. His eyes look like they’ll pop out of his head.
“We’re nothing, Rick. We went our separate ways in high school.”
“Not really. Since I’d been stalking you at Lexington. I only killed how many alphas?” he pretends to count on his fingers.
Rick turns beet red. “I had a nice time. Good night.” He rushes out of the diner.
I pivot and scowl up at Sawyer.
He snickers then drops a kiss on my neck. “Don’t be upset, little omega. At least I didn’t take him into the back room and hang his short ass on a coat hook. Bashing his face just for smiling at you crossed my mind first. I chose to be cordial. You already think I’m some obsessed alpha.”
I shrug on my jacket. “You are. Besides, he’s not short. He’s five ten.”
“I’m six six, Harper. I could tuck him under my arm and sprint across the football field to the endzone, effortlessly.”
“You can’t go around harassing my potential mates,” I say.
His eyes darken. “I can because you’re my mate. Scent match. We’re fated mates, baby.”
“We’re nothing, Sawyer,” I object and saunter out of the diner.
“You know that’s not true,” he says as he falls in step with me.
“Thatcher said you all are looking for a mate.”
