“Is this yours?” He picks up the ridiculous hat that caused this whole ordeal. A trace of a smile graces his lips as his thumb strokes the wool.
If he keeps rubbing my hat like it’s a genie’s lamp, I’ll happily grant him a special wish…Delilah!I mentally chastise myselffrom spiraling into a sexy rabbit hole that I have no business going down.Pull yourself together!
“That’s what I was chasing after. Blame the hat for,” I gesture at the squashed desserts, “this mess.”
Our hands brush as he passes the knitted offender back. Even through my mittens, a spark of heat races up my arms, making the hairs stand at attention.
“Nice nails,” I blurt, jumping on the first thing I see, hoping to distract myself from the quiver of longing ebbing through me.
It’s not every day I speak to an alpha who smells like brownies and has the bone structure of a high fashion model. I’m not used to a lot of male attention. It’s usually Sabs’s jaw-dropping outfits and Kady’s standoffish elegance that attracts male attention whenever we’re in Club Knotty, and I often get quickly written off as their kooky friend.
He yanks his hand, with neatly painted black nails, back.
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I can’t wear polish on mine because I keep biting them. It’s a nervous thing, you know?” I can’t stop babbling. How can I think straight when I’m surrounded by this alpha who smells like pure sex on legs? “I’ve been thinking of trying hypnosis. For the nail biting. Some people say it can help.”
He tilts his head to the side, surveying me with bemusement. “You really want to talk about my nails?”
“No, sorry.” What the hell must he think of me? “You don’t have to stick around. You’ve already stopped me from falling and rescued my hat. Granted, it’s not my finest work. I kept dropping stitches, and the yarn is too thin. Anyway!” I pull the hat back over my unruly curls before removing my mittens and tucking them in my pocket. “I’ll tidy up then take what I can to a spot nearby where I know foxes live. They can have a midnight snack. Can’t have it going to waste, right?”
“Let me help you with the sponge graveyard.”
His voice is soft with an underlying rasp. He has a slight accent, American with a hint of British-ness that only makes him more attractive.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than help me,” I say as I scoop the remains of the cupcakes into the box, awkwardly scraping them up with the lid. “Like studying or whatever else you’re planning on doing tonight.”
“Actually, I’m not a student here.”
“Oh?” Something about his face looks familiar, but I’m positive I’d remember him if we’d met before. A chiseled jawline like that would be pretty hard to forget. “Are you visiting a friend?”
He shoots me a funny look. “Something like that.”
He studies me intently, making me feel like I’m a dough he’s watching rise. Unfortunately, I’m deflating faster than an underbaked muffin under his scrutiny.
“Is there something on my face?” I swipe at my heated cheeks. Perhaps I’m still covered in flour? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just…” He scrubs a hand over his beanie. “I didn’t expect to run into someone like you tonight.”
I snort. “Yeah, I doubt running into the crazy cupcake lady is on anyone’s bucket list.” I hold out my hand. The action feels oddly formal, but I’ve committed now. “I’m Delilah.”
The earlier tension in his shoulders vanishes as he laughs. “It was really good to meet you, Delilah.” His hand closes around mine, making my knees do that weird tremble again. “Are you heading to a party?”
“A party?”
“Because of the cupcakes?” His cheeky grin melts my insides faster than butter under high heat. “Or were you planning oneating them alone?” He shows me his open palms. “No judgment from me if you were.”
“Oh!” I giggle, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise that I’m sure I haven’t made before. What is it about this alpha that’s thrown me off so much? “No, I was just on my way back from class. I study culinary arts. The cupcakes are—were—today’s project, but I won’t bore you with the details. I should probably get going.”
My feet stay rooted to the spot.
“You’re not boring me.” His tone is earnest, yet he pulls up his sleeve to check his silver watch. More black and grey intricate tattoos wrap around his wrist. I’d like to ask about the story behind them, but I’ve already yapped enough. “But you’re right. I should go.” Some of the sparkle seems to leave his eyes. “My… uh, friends… will be looking for me.”
“Of course.” I nod, firmly putting the lid back on what’s left of the cupcakes. There’s no way a guy who looks like that wants to stand around chatting to little old me. “It was nice to meet you...” My voice trails off, realizing he never told me his name. “Have a nice night.” I turn to go.
“I hope the foxes enjoy their cupcakes,” he calls after me.
I flinch when I take a second step away from him. I almost drop the cupcakes again when an uncomfortable, prickly heat spreads through my palms. The sensation continues, racing over my wrists and up my arms. With my third step, a gush of slick soaks my panties. I stop in my tracks.
I know the signs and what this means…I’m going into heat.
