I grip the cuff and push it up, towards his hand, exposing the worst of the gash before I tie the strip of fabric around it like a makeshift bandage. At least this way, the cuff won’t dig into his skin as much.
“Tada!” I say, taking a second to admire my handiwork.
As he relaxes his arm back down and the cuff settles back into its previous place, he lets out a soft sigh. “Thanks, sweetheart, that actually feels a lot better.”
“I have a name, you know,” I say, before crouching down and tugging another strip of Rowan’s t-shirt with my teeth. I’ll have to apologize to him for ruining his shirt later.
“Care to share with the class?” He says with ahuff of laughter.
“What’s yours?” I ask, stepping up to his other arm and starting the same routine.
“Griffin.”
“My name is Mirabelle, but my friends call me Mira.”
“Do I get to call you Mira?”
I finish tying the makeshift bandage around the gash on his left wrist and hum contemplatively.
“I mean, I’ve seen your tits, so I?—“
I let out a squeak and shove my hand over his mouth. His eyes widen slightly, as if he can’t believe I just did that. To be fair, I think I’m wearing a matching expression. I’m sure most people wouldn’t dare do something like that to an alpha as obviously powerful as him.
A mischievous glimmer appears in his eyes before his tongue darts out and licks the palm of my hand.
I jump backwards, wiping it on the back of my t-shirt.
“Ew! My hand is dirty! Why would you do that!”
“I dunno,” he shrugs, that toothy, almost foxlike predatory grin reappearing on his face.
“Well—well—I guess you don’t get to call me Mira yet!” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
I blink at him in even more shock as his expression shifts again.
He’s... pouting?
And wow.
He looks adorable.
If a massive, absolutely jacked alpha like him could be adorable.
“Aw man, guess I’ll have to win you over then,” he says, flashing me a blinding smile that has my breath catching in my throat. There’s just something about him... something about his scent, his protectiveness, his strength. It’s drawing me to him like a moth to a flame.
“Fine, we’ll see!” I say. It’s a lame comeback as faras comebacks are concerned, but I don’t think my brain is working at full capacity here.
He looks ready to shoot back another playful retort before his expression shifts completely, his head jerking towards the door.
“Get behind me,” he growls as he stands to his feet.
“Wh—“
“Now, Mirabelle,” he snaps. “Someone is coming.”
CHAPTER 8
Rowan
