“Really?” he asks. “That’s actually really cool.”
“It was. They found out that night they were scent matches and were inseparable while she was alive,” I say.
“She sounds amazing,” Tav says quietly, not making eye contact while running my card before he hands it back to me. “You were lucky to have her.”
Something tells me by his tone that he didn’t have the same experience, causing me to swallow back my growl of displeasure. There seems to be a lot of layers to him, and I want to peel them back.
Everyone should have really good people in their lives, which means I’m even more intent on making sure I’m his.
“Now that you know my name, how about that date?” I ask.
“I don’t date alphas,” he says. “Now get out of my store.”
My record is returned to me in a bag, and I take this as my cue to leave. I will definitely be back until he comes around and agrees to go on a date with me. I can have the patience of a saint when necessary.
Leaving my guitar on purpose despite its importance, I take a leap of faith that he’ll keep it for me.
“Hey, Bentley, you left your guitar!” he yells, but I am coming down with a sudden case of selective hearing.
It’s a shame, huh? I’ll have to continue my stalking from afar until I know he’ll be more tolerant of my affections. I also need to swing by a sex store for a sleeve. If I can’t come soon, I think my dick might fall off.
CHAPTER 10
Octavian
I stareat the guitar case like I’m waiting for the damn thing to sprout horns and claws before it charges at me like a wild animal.
I bet he did that on purpose.
He’s almost too careful with it most of the time, treating it like a piece of fine china or even his baby. That big brute would sooner cut off a finger than leave it somewhere, I’d bet money on that. It feels intentional, the way Bentley left it here. Especially since he acted like he didn’t hear me call after him.
Not that I noticed.
It’s not like I was paying attention.
I don’t pay any attention to Bentley, not until I have to kick him off my stoop.
Unfortunately, those brief exchanges have had me payingwaytoo much attention to the absolutely enormous alpha who smells like chopped wood straight out of the forest.
Which reminds me, I need to figure out a way of getting stronger blockers because I feel like I could practically seeBentley’s pheromones shooting out of his body and that is not good at all.
I’m not about defective medications. Blockers that don’t work create problems, and I know firsthand how bad those can be. So I have to get on top of that in order to avoid any unwanted behavior from myself, or literally anyone else with alpha genes.
I push my glasses up my nose then scrub a hand over my hair and sigh.
Regardless of who it belongs to, I can’t let an instrument go unprotected.
First my dog guilt trips me into bringing him down here after lunch, then a giant meathead alpha cons me into taking care of his guitar.
Why is this happening to me?
“Ridiculous,” I grumble as I stomp over and pick it up. “I should just slap a price tag on it and put it out with the rest of the ones I have for sale.”
Maybe he’d stop coming by if I sold his shit.
I pause as a strange feeling swirls in my chest briefly, something I’m not entirely familiar with and can’t really name, but I felt it as soon as that thought ran through my head. Thankfully, the pang disappears just as quickly and I go back to plotting how to rid myself of the farm boy himbo.
I could always wind one of his strings too tight so the next time he plays, it snaps. It’s not like he’d feel it, not with how calloused his hands are. I mean,ifthey’re that calloused. I definitely didn’t notice that when he paid for the Angelic Demons album.