“Look, you little —”
Dylan couldn’t take the banter anymore. The male Shifter wasn’t a huge threat, but disrespecting anyone, especially women (add an Alpha woman on the top of that cake), was a no-go, and it was time to put a swift end to it. Making eye contact with Jackson, he nodded his head giving Dylan the okay to do whatever he felt he needed to do.
Standing from the booth, Dylan swiftly pulled out one of his many little black spades. Feeling the cool metal in his hand, he took a deep breath before getting into the throwing position, feet shoulder-width apart and pointing forward. Like a string pulling his arm forward he let go of the knife, sending it flying through the air before landing on Flora’s table, right in front of the man’s hand.
The guy jumped back, hands in the air as a surrender. Luxe was too pissed to move, no jumping or no backing down. Walking up to the table, Dylan looked the guy up and down. His shirt stretched tight as he pulled the blade from the table. Wiping it with his shirt, he put it back in one of his many weapons pockets.
“Okay, pretty boy. It's time to leave,” Dylan said, keeping his face emotionless. He didn’t necessarily want to spark an ego-fueled fight, but he wouldn’t be opposed if the asshole swung first.
“Pretty boy? You got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I’m not, and you got a pissed-off Alpha ready to hand your ass to you on a silver platter.” Dylan paused and looked back to Luxe, asking “Alpha?”
“I prefer Luna, thank you.” she said confidently.
Female Alphas preferred the title "Alpha" as much as they did "Luna", so they seemed just like men, but it was always polite to ask anyway.
“So not only have you pissed off a Luna, you’ve also pissed off me and the woman you tried to ask on a date. Do you see the situation you’re in right now?” Dylan tried to reason with him, giving the guy an undeserving out.
“Whatever, she wasn’t all that anyway.” The guy tried walking away, but before he could get very far, Dylan grabbed the back of the stranger’s head and slammed it against the nearest table.
“Next time, just walk away quietly,” Dylan whispered before pushing the guy forward and out the door. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.”
“Alrighty, Prince Charming,” Luxe giggled, seemingly in a better mood.
Dylan looked back to a flushed Flora, whose brown freckles seemed to be shining against her skin. Sending her a wink, he rejoined Jackson at their table.
“Definitely more than friends, my guy,” Jackson muttered with a deep laugh.
12
FLORA
“Okay, I just need to do a few more checks over the structure, then I will be ready to officially confirm these sketches to the production factory for sampling,” Flora muttered, the Lust Lane special shoe collection splayed out in front of her.
“Then the hardest part will be done?” Dylan guessed, sharpening dull pencils from Flora’s desk.
“Yes, exactly,” Flora said with a sigh. As much as she wanted to get these designs done and over with, she couldn’t afford to get them wrong again. The budget for this project was running thin as was her patience to continue. Even with Cassandra’s and Romeo’s investment, she had to count her pennies. As much as she loved the idea of this project, it hurt to send back bad samples and she didn’t want to continue disappointing the girls at Lust Lane and herself.
Why was this so damn difficult? She should’ve been done with this months ago. A whole year of designing and sampling slipped past her, and she wasn’t sure how to interpret it. Was she just not as good of a designer as she thought?
“Lean back, Flora.” A monotone voice broke her train of thought. Jumping from fright, her eyes shot up to Dylan’s.
“What?” she asked.
“Relax, press your back into your chair.” He said it as if it was common sense for him to even notice something like that. Following his instruction, she leaned into her chair wordlessly, pressing as much of her back into the chair as she could. Taking a deep breath, her heart began to beat normally again.
“Dylan, are you single?” Flora blurted out.
“I notice one habit you have and you’re in love? Never thought it would be so easy.”
“Answer the question, Dylan.”
“Why?’ he asked, a smirk growing on his face. Flora flushed, embarrassed she wanted to know the answer.
“Because, asshole, your girlfriend, mate, whatever would be pretty upset with you spending so much time with me.” She hoped he’d buy the lame ass excuse she was selling. Rolling a pencil between her fingers, she silently hoped that there was no girlfriend or soulmate in the picture. That would rip her own soul out, crushing it into a thousand pieces.
“Did you see any women at the Packhouse?” he asked, leaning in closer to her from his chair across her desk. Looking off into space, as if thinking, she tried to recall the ten minutes she’d spent in the house. There was no recollection of any female presence in the house besides hers and Luxe’s.
