Chapter 389
Chapter 389
“No, Alpha. Dev and I already sorted everything out earlier. We’re all set,” she replied smoothly, her tone calm yet gently confirming my approval. “Would you like to see the dining room? You and the boys haven’t really used it much lately, so I had the girls arrange it for tonight. Hope that’s alright with you.” There was no hesitation in her voice-just a quiet check to make sure she was on the right track. Honestly, she’s incredible.
“That sounds perfect,” I said, appreciating her thoughtfulness. “If you need anything else to help them settle in, just let me know. I want this to be a win-win situation, but right now, it feels like they’re contributing way more than we are p>
She smiled knowingly. “We’ve planned a pretty standard menu for tomorrow. None of them asked for anything special, but I’ll wait to see how they eat in the morning before making any changes.” She winked at me, fully aware that the boys were being polite and that she’d have to coax out any real preferences. That’s exactly the kind of challenge she thrives on. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought as I quietly finished my meal, watching her move with effortless grace around the kitchen.
When I got up to clear my plate, I glanced around and noticed I was alone. Where had Ben disappeared to? His silence was unnerving-almost eerie, even for me. He’d been shadowing me all day, but maybe he was already tired of trailing behind. I’ve seen plenty of guys who couldn’t keep up, so it wouldn’t surprise me.
The hallway leading to my room was unusually still. I realized I hadn’t been truly alone in this house since my mother’s attack. The silence felt heavy, almost suffocating. As I reached my door, the scent of Ben hit me—he’d showered, and the steam had only intensified his intoxicating fragrance. I hated how close he was right now. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself before opening the door. I knew the smell would be stronger inside, and I didn’t want to enjoy it—I wanted to be angry. “You gonna tell me what the hell is wrong, or should I just keep guessing?” His voice was low, teasing, yet edged with something more serious.
I shot back, unable to resist a jab, “Why are you on my couch when there’s a perfectly good bed right across the hall p>
He was sprawled out like a model in those perfectly fitted shorts and a casual t-shirt, one arm covering his eyes, the other resting on his waist with a thumb hooked into the waistband. Damn it. I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting south of that waistband. I forced myself to turn and head straight for the bathroom, slamming the door a little too hard behind me.
“That’s a ‘no,’ then. Got it,” I heard his muffled voice through the door, clear despite the barrier.
I took my time in the shower, letting the warm water soothe my nerves. Part of me hoped he’d fall asleep waiting outside. Another part meticulously groomed itself, hoping he might notice the effort. And then there was this tiny, rebellious spark inside me, wondering if I could sneak off and indulge in a little private fantasy—one fueled by the vivid image burned into my mind without him catching on to the lingering scent. Probably not, but I was desperate enough to try. I was wound tight, and I’d only ever seen him without a shirt once. This emotional roller coaster was brutal. I just wanted to get off.