Rejected by my cursed alpha mate
“Excuse me, his taste is clearly elite.”
“Mm-hmm,” Tessa nodded. “Exceptionally niche. Possibly tragic.”
They both dissolved into laughter, the kind that came easily—unguarded, bright.
“Care to let me in on the joy?”
The voice came from below.
They both looked up.
Jared stood there, fresh off the field, clad in his sportswear—sleeves pushed up, hair slightly damp, the faint sheen of exertion catching the sunlight. There was something undeniably striking about him in that moment—unpolished, real, and entirely self-assured.
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