The Alpha's Miss Wrong
She removes the cupcakes from the oven and sets them on the cooling rack.
The cackle that left my throat was loud, “Nope,” popping the P, “he deserved it, coming on to me like a love sick pup at his own engagement party, what else could I do,” I shrug. Eyeing up the cupcakes and then snatched one off the rack. I take a bite, “he’s lucky I didn’t tell Carla, she’d skin him alive,” I arch a brow, “these are delicious.”
She shakes her head, setting the bowl of icing on the counter, “I’m just saying one of these days you’re going to screw the wrong guy and 1 or 2 things are bound to happen.”
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