“Because I am not interested in you,” I said bluntly.
“Come on. Can’t we talk?” his body seemed to slump, growing smaller. Alphas didn’t have to be big and fucking mighty all the time, but they usually were egotistical enough to keep their dignity over this kind of shit.
The girl popped back over before I could answer, directly handing me a fresh latte, capped and sleeved.
“There you go, hon. I hope it’s good!” She skipped off to take a new arrival’s order. I glanced down at the drink, considered waiting, but then lifted the disposable cup to my mouth and took a deliberately long gulp.
“You’re being an asshole,” Todd grumbled.
“No, I’m not,” I countered, lowering the latte. “I was clear on the hook-up app. I was clear when we met for coffee. And I was pretty fucking clear before and after we screwed. I was not looking for anything deeper then, and I’m not looking for anything deeper now. I’ve been honest, from the jump.”
“An honest jackass who just uses people.” He stood up, trying to look big and tough. I mean, it worked. He was an Alpha after all. I just couldn’t take him seriously after seen the butterfly tattoo on his ass.
“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you cope.” I shrugged, turning around and exiting the cafe. I was going to have to find a new place for coffee. And that sucked.
I took another long draw off the latte. It was absolutely spot-on. My tongue danced with notes of smoky caramel, dark chocolate, marshmallow, and crunchy, graham cracker sprinkle. My eyes caught the sharpie writing as I began to lower the cup. Turning it slightly around, I saw the girl had written Mac inside a swoopy, artsy heart.
Walking past the Inner-City Bank & Trust, I checked out the time on their front sign display. Only ten minutes until Professor Dickhead’s lecture. Fuck it. I didn’t want to go anyway.
Deciding to head home, I took a left at the next street to head towards the parking lot where I’d left the Jag earlier.
“Tray,”Mac asked as I strolled into the living room. “Why would someone named Todd Morgenstein suddenly be calling the house nonstop?”
I frowned, because I sure as hell had never given that stalker our home number.
“No fucking idea. He’s that prick who got all clingy. The one I met at Barlowe’s Bakery for coffee a few weeks ago.” I moved to a stop next to the coffee table, setting the to-go cup down. I’d finished it on the drive, but I hated leaving trash in the Jag. “I ran into him earlier and he was all ‘why can’t we talk?’, ‘why don’t you want me?’, you’re such a horrible prick?’. It was fucking out of bounds.”
“Well, apparently, he has this number, and I’d really prefer not to change it again. It’s a headache updating everyone who actually needs the emergency contact.” Mac swiped his hands down his thighs to smooth the trousers as he stood. “I’m also quite tired of running back and forth to the front foyer to answer it.”
“They can hit us up on our mobiles or call Catalina.” I shrugged, picking the cup back up so I could walk it into the kitchen.
“The landline is a last resort emergency number, Tray. If people need to call it, then they have already exhausted alternative modes of contact.” Mac—logical, reasonable, annoyingly responsible Mac—never missed a chance to lecture me. I loved the dude. Hands down couldn’t live without him. Icouldlive without him treating me like I was a teenager even though I was almost twenty-six. He was only four years older, dammit. I guess the only thing that made it a little better was that Mac lectured everyone sometimes. It was just his way.
“Fine, I’ll figure out why the fucker has this number. His dad’s this CEO hotshot, owns a lot of places around LA. I bet he whined to daddy and daddy used his connections to track me down.” I gritted my teeth. If I had to get yet another restraining order, I’d be pissed. The to-go cup crumpled in my fist. Remnants of the latte dribbled out onto the carpet. Mac blinked down at the little tan stains, shook his head, and then walked away without commenting.
“I’ve got to delete that app,” I muttered to myself as I moved into the kitchen. “It’s given me more headaches than hard-ons.”
Tossing the trash away, I yanked out my cell phone and navigated to where the blocked contacts were listed. I unblocked Todd and dialed.
“I got your attention, didn’t I?” The smug asshole started before I could say anything.
“Sure, as fuck did, Todd. Now let’s talk about what’s going to happen when I get the cops involved and request a goddamn restraining order.”
The line went silent.
I was so goddamn over empty dalliances. I was a sexual creature. Love was love, in my book. I could screw my best fucking friend, and it wouldn’t change shit between us. At least not on my end.
But hooking up with randos that caught feelings wasso last year.Todd was just the most recent mistake in a line of warped people that forced me to make hard choices. I didn’t like hard choices. I liked easy, breezy dammit. Fuck, maybe my mom was right. Maybe I needed to grow up and get my personal shit together. And that meant a mate. A real goddamn mate.
Ryder was going to have to get over himself.
15
TRAY
3 MONTHS AGO... LAPD, KNOTTYWOOD STATION
“So, you’re really Tray Rivers?”A rounded Alpha officer holding a cliché donut in one hand, and a coffee in the other, stared at me with beady eyes.
