In the Alpha's Bedroom

Steph POV

It was getting harder and harder to manage the whiplash of discoveries since Tyler—fucking Tyler Rogers, the future Alpha of the Crescent Ridge pack—first unlocked his car.

Luxury car. Mansion for a house. A nice bathroom with hot water and a bubble bath. Pristine white towels.

And a young male whom I didn’t give enough credit to.

My wolf was so convincing, telling me what a dutiful, honorable person he was, that I believed it wholeheartedly—though I knew he needed to prove it first.

Casually admitting he brings multiple women here did not earn him any points.

But what did it say about me standing in the bathroom door in just a towel?

Whatever. He looked pathetic standing there like he had just been rejected by his prom date. All he was missing was a bouquet of comically wilted roses.

Tyler was tall as hell, probably a foot taller than me, and twice as broad. And he had the telltale aura of a future Alpha. I felt it in my bones as much as I felt my wolf.

What did earn him points was his capability to show genuine regret. Now it was just a test of what he said next.

“I, uh,” he began very convincingly, “um. How can I make it up to you?”

I narrowed my eyes at his awkward, hopeful expression. Then I looked at the hot dog.

Then my hunger squashed my anger like a bug.

I sighed. I was too exhausted to deal with something like this. Being angry at a male I just met barely hours ago, when he gave me shelter and food… it wasn’t fair. I couldn’t repay his kindness by criticizing his past—even if it was damning.

“Leave me in peace to eat a hot dog in your bathroom.”

Tyler’s face lit up—and then it snapped into cool indifference. It was totally an act, especially when he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Totally. Take your time. I’ll just… you can stay in the guest room down the hall on the right.”

“Got it.” The smell of ketchup and mustard was making my mouth water like crazy. I started to close the door. “Yes, buh-bye now.”

Tyler huffed a laugh at my attempt at a flight attendant voice. “Yes, ma’am.”

True to my word, I scarfed down the fake meat like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. It was extremely unladylike, but wolves didn’t care about that shit. Neither my wolf nor my reflection had any objections about getting food in my system.

I was still licking my lips when I turned to the clothes Tyler left just outside the door. He hadn’t been watching when i grabbed them earlier. 

I unfolded the shirt and pants: comfy-looking jeans and a plain blue T-shirt. It was just my style—no style.

“Now you look… moderately more presentable,” I told my reflection quietly. “Hair’s still wet, makeup’s still running, bangs are barely covering your mark, and…” 

I swallowed around a knot in my throat. 

“And… your mate is somewhere in this house.”

I opened the door as if I were waiting for a jumpscare. Blessedly, the door made no noise, so I slipped quickly out of his room and down the hall. My heart lurched out of my chest at the sound of distant snoring. But nothing else.

The guestroom was plain compared to Tyler’s bathroom—if you wanted to call a stupidly wealthy family’s expensive taste in white and gold plain.

My throat tightened again. I hadn’t been born into luxury. I never thought I would even get close to experiencing anything above middle-class niceness. This was far from what I ever deserved.

I considered sleeping on the floor.

My wolf convinced me otherwise.

The mattress felt like heaven when I plopped down on it. The pillows were made of clouds. When I tucked myself under the comforter, it was like getting a heavy, fluffy hug.

I assumed I was too wired and self-conscious to fall asleep, but no.

I was out like a light.

And when I woke to a sliver of sunlight shining directly into my eyes, I bolted upright. My breathing hitched into a pounding rhythm. Where the hell was I?

Oh.

Right.

I closed my eyes and flopped back down. My heartbeat steadied a little, but not by much, when the reality of my situation began to trickle into wakefulness.

I had so much shit to figure out and no clue how to even prioritize any of it, but I knew one thing: I had to pee.

And in my overthinking, I wasn’t paying attention when I wandered back to Tyler’s bathroom and yanked open the door.

Heat from the shower hit me in the face, and the steam did nothing to hide the fact that—

“Morning, princess.”

Tyler Rogers was getting out of the shower, completely naked.

And I mean, unabashedly, stark, butt-naked—full-frontal nudity.

I screamed like I met that jumpscare, spinning around to nearly collide with the door. “Put clothes on, for fuck’s sake!” I shrieked.

“I’m alone, taking a shower.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Did you come here on purpose?” Tyler asked, and my blood boiled at the purr in the tone. “Because if we’re mates—”

“I just met you! I don’t want to see you—I mean, your—”

I felt him step closer, his breath and heartbeat filling my ears. I didn’t want to admit they both calmed me and sent a shiver up my spine. I tensed as if I expected him to touch me, but… no. No touch.

Why was I disappointed by that? By a lack of comfort?

I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want comfort. I didn’t deserve that. 

I also expected Tyler to make a snide remark or laugh. But he didn’t.

“Hey, it’s okay. Listen, I’ll put on a towel—or you can just run out, blushing redder than a tomato.”

“Both,” I decided—and indeed fled back to the guest room, throwing myself onto the bed like a dramatic Disney princess.

I had never seen a… ahem… a… well, the word didn’t even want to settle in my brain in real liffe. Cock? Dick? Just thinking it made my face heat until I could probably fry eggs on my cheeks.

Was that pathetic? 

Yes. No.

Fuck social norms.

I heard a knock on the door. 

“Stephanie?”

I sat up quickly, fussing with my hair and pretending I wasn’t close to tears. “Yep. Come in.”

Tyler stepped in hesitantly, fully clothed in jeans and a shirt that showed off his physique. I suspected that was quite intentional. 

Well, it worked, because I was immediately distracted by his biceps and pecs.

No, I snapped at myself. Don’t get distracted like that, you idiot. Oh, shut up.

My wolf did not shut up. She was purring like a satisfied kitten at the “fine specimen.”

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I should’ve locked the door..”

“Ya think?”

Tyler’s mouth quirked toward a smile. “I know. Can I make it up to you with breakfast? I make a mean scrambled egg.”

We met gazes, and I suddenly found it very hard not to smile back and say softly, “Yes. That would be nice.”

It was terrifying how easily those words slipped out, like I had been waiting years for the offer.

I followed him downstairs to a kitchen that was unnecessarily large and beautiful. Tyler moved around like an experienced chef, pulling out everything needed to show off his supposed egg prowess.

“So,” he began, only mildly awkward, “did you… like what you saw?”

“I am not answering that question.”

“Understandable. Uh, did you sleep well?”

I slipped into one of the stools at the marble-countered island and traced the patterns with a forefinger. “Yes. I’ve never slept on such a nice mattress.”

Tyler cracked four eggs into a sizzling pan, but his attention was on me, that steel-blue gaze boring into my soul. “What kind of mattress have you slept on?”

“Shitty ones.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know how to make scrambled eggs?”

“Burnt ones, yes.”

Tyler chuckled. “Come here. I’ll teach you.”

I felt a blush creeping up my neck. Jeez.

I padded near him but not close. He was moving the eggs around the pan with a spatula as if he were born to do it.

“Closer, Steph,” he said with a wave.

“Stephanie.”

I didn’t mean to say it so coldly; it just slipped out.

Tyler’s grin faltered. “Sorry. Stephanie.”

Guilt coiled in my gut. I stepped closer until just a foot was between us. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Only those I care about can call me that.”

“Got it. Here, this is the secret to making the best scrambled eggs.”

I appreciated the quiet acceptance in his voice so much that I barely paid attention to the secret. 

I just watched his hands work—they were very nice hands—and his mouth move. He had a jawline that could cut glass. His eyebrows were thick. Nice, strong nose. The peek of collarbone over the scoop neck of his shirt—

“Stephanie?”

I blinked out of my daze. “Huh? What?”

Tyler’s smirk was infuriatingly knowing. “Are you enamoured with my eggs or my morning scruff?”

“Neither,” I blurted, snatching a plate from the island. “I mean—the eggs. They’re delicious. I, um—”

The kitchen felt warmer all of a sudden. My pulse thrummed in my ears, drowning out the sizzling pan.

And before I could think better of it, I leaned in and kissed him.