Page 20 of Rafe

“He will always be your Alpha, Rafe. You know this in your soul. Your pack may change but your Alpha will always have that bond with you.”

Rafe stretched his neck as his thoughts raced. Damn if Logan didn’t know how to lay on the guilt and it was working. His stomach turned in knots. I know I’m gonna regret this. “Fuuuuck. Okay. I’ll do it.”

“After you talk to Hunter and things are settled, you can take that trip,” Logan promised.

“I’m not staying long. I’m serious about taking a vacation. Hunter better sort things.”

“It’s settled then,” Xavier said.

“Boys trip.” Kenji smiled and nodded. “Vegas baby.”

“When are we leaving?” Rafe asked.

Greyson held up another bagel and laughed. “Tonight.”

Rafe took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he needed a distraction from his perseverating thoughts.

His cell phone buzzed, and he dashed across the room to the kitchen to answer. Locating it under a box of empty bagels, he slid his finger across the screen. Rafe’s heart caught in his chest as he read the text.

Thanks for last night. See you in L.A. And your wolf. ~Sky

4

“That’s a wrap!” the assistant director called as the cast and crew scattered from the set.

Skylar glanced at her phone and sighed. Five days. Rafe hadn’t responded to her text. Left her on read.

“Just another fuckboy,” she muttered under her breath and peeled off her police uniform.

She stared at the black hole in her blue shirt, blobs of fake blood spattered all over it. Destroyed, just like her acting career. They’d put her character in a coma. The showrunner had changed direction for the storyline, they’d told her. Epic fail.

Skylar slid out of her tattered police slacks and folded the clothes. She offered a small smile as a costume assistant retrieved the clothing.

Her mind raced with thoughts as she dressed and collected her things out of her cubby. She supposed she should be grateful that at least she’d be paid for the five episodes. She sighed, resigned to her fate. Disappointment weighed on her like a ton of bricks. She hadn’t even had much time on the set to make connections. Her big break had been crushed.

Skylar considered going to visit her parents in Washington. In a few weeks she could go back to New Orleans, tend to Verses. But since she’d already agreed to rent her home, she’d need to find another place to live while she made new arrangements with her tenant.

And then there was Rafe, who she’d likely inevitably see again whenever he visited his friend. But New Orleans was a big city, she told herself. Big enough to avoid him.

She began typing a text to her group chat with Eva and Hailey to let them know she’d be leaving L.A. by the end of the week. As she was about to press send, her phone buzzed. Best Agent Ever flashed across the screen and she tapped the message.

Don’t say no. Just pack your bags. I’ve got a new job for you. Vegas, baby!

When one door closes, another one opens. Skylar smiled as she fell back into her king-sized bed and stared out the floor to ceiling windows, taking in the sight of the twinkling lights of the Las Vegas strip.

Emily Atkins, aka Best Agent Ever, had booked her a two-month gig at a new studio filming an indie miniseries. She told her that an associate had seen Skylar and loved her performance.

First day on set had gone amazing. No more blood or single-episode roles for her. No, this time Skylar’s character had a name. ‘Betty the Waitress’ worked in a fifties diner, and when she wasn’t serving up pie and coffee, the flirty, wise-cracking town detective solved cozy crimes. Not only did Skylar have a shot at a second season, but production had also picked up her housing. For the next two months, Skylar would call her condo in the high-rise hotel home.

She rolled onto her back and stared at her phone, rereading the text she’d sent Rafe. As she went to delete her message, she hesitated. She brought her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes, recalling how he’d kissed her and her body’s electrifying reaction. The moment had been surreal, stirring a deep desire that had long evaded her. He’d pulled away before they’d gone further, leaving her wanting another amazing, delicious kiss. And then, he’d ghosted her.

Skylar swiped her message again, revealing the red trash can of death. With the swift speed of ripping off a band-aid, she deleted the message and tossed her phone across the bed.

“You’ve got a job, Sky. Better days are ahead.” She smiled, reminded that she didn’t have work tomorrow.

She’d been invited to a cast get together, and the night was young. Determined to make the best of things, she forced herself to rally and socialize. If luck was a lady, maybe she’d meet someone else who’d make the fuckboy from New Orleans nothing more than a distant memory.

Best way to get over someone is to get under someone, she’d always heard. Or maybe it just involved keeping busy? Determined not to let moss grow under her feet, Skylar strode into the bar. Wearing her favorite little black dress and fuck me heels, she walked with confidence, hoping she was just the right level of sexy to make for a fun night in Vegas.