I’ve never gotten an alpha a present in my life. That’s not me. But there it is. Waiting for its inevitable rejection.
When Glenn finally arrives, I’m so nervous my eye is twitching.
Not that he looks at me long enough to notice. He simply walks over to the coffee machine, brews his cup of coffee, and stands in front of my desk, awaiting orders.
“What’s the plan for today, Mr. Wren?”
I sigh and push the bag forward. “Let’s start with this first.”
His eyes flick down to it, and he steps forward, his fingers reaching out and flicking the bag open.
“What’s this for?”
I swallow and close my eyes. The twitch is too much.
“An apology gift.”
He’s deathly silent, and I peek an eye open. He’s still not looking at me, but his cheeks are slightly flushed.
“I already have a tool belt.”
“Yes, but this one is nicer and newer.”
He sips his coffee and picks the bag up.
“All right.”
Not even a thank you. Something inside me twists, and I let out a long exhale, turning my gaze to the computer screen. I don’t expect his gratitude, not after what I did—even so, the rejection hurts.
We go through the plans for the day, and then he walks out, the bag in his hand.
I watch him hand the new tool belt to Fisher, who ends up being the one to wear it.
I guess my web searches weren’t helpful. Or maybe they were, and I just need to grovel harder.
Fuck, I need to grovel harder.
I decide to pivot that night. Perhaps he doesn’t want things for work. That was silly of me. A guy like Glenn would like the same old shit, wearing it until it falls apart.
So, I decide on food.
A basket of it.
He said he loves food, loves cooking and eating.
I end up leaving work early the next day to head to a local farm, oddly named Buttered Blessings. They’re known for their homemade cheese, jams, and fresh fruit.
Weird, no butter in sight.
I walk into the small shop, feeling flustered and overwhelmed. Today was awful. Glenn once again didn’t even look at me. He acted entirely professionally and left me sitting in my chair without a backward glance.
I rub at my swollen eyes.
I might have had a small breakdown while driving here. And I know I don’t have a lot of time before they close, so when a lovely older woman named Eudora wanders up and asks if she can help me, I let it all out.
I stand there, swiping at my watering eyes, telling her far too much about how I fucked up. About how I need apology cheese and maybe some honey. Anything that will make my alpha look at me again.
She listens intently, bobbing her head, and then pulls me in for a long hug. Besides Glenn, no one has hugged me in a long time.
