Autumns alpha

"Clare Edwards, I swear to god, if you take Eli back one more time—" I groaned, tossing a handful of popcorn at the TV screen where Degrassi played for the third time that afternoon. The kernels bounced harmlessly off the screen, scattering across our already disastrous apartment floor. Jade snorted from her nest of blankets beside me. "Bold words from someone whose love life is currently a literal dumpster fire." She paused. "Well, not literal. Unless you count that time you tried cooking ramen without water—" "We agreed never to speak of that." I adjusted my giant, round glasses—the kind that took up half my face and made me look like a startled owl—and glared at her. Between the pink hair (Troll Poppy’s brighter, messier cousin), the glasses, and the fact I was drowning in an oversized sweater that may or may not have been stolen from a thrift store, I looked like a walking Pinterest board titled "Chaotic Cottagecore Disaster." My phone buzzed on the coffee table. Again. Unknown Number: You left your shift early yesterday. We missed you. I didn’t need to check the contact to know who it was. Creepy Boss Alert. Jade snatched my phone before I could, her nose scrunching as she read the text. "Oh hell no. Block him. Delete him. Bury him in the backyard—" "We don’t have a backyard," I muttered, flopping back against the couch. "Details." She tossed my phone at my chest. "Point is, you need a new job. Like, yesterday. Because in case you forgot, our rent is due in five days, and I’m not above selling a kidney on the black market." I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "I know, I know. But what am I supposed to do? ‘Must have 5 years of experience’—in what, suffering? ‘Must be able to lift 50 lbs’—I can barely lift my will to live—" Jade rolled her eyes and grabbed my laptop, cracking it open with the determination of a woman on a mission. "Let’s see… Bartending? No. Retail? Absolutely not after the last time. Office job? You’d set the building on fire within a week—" "That was one time!" "—Aha!" She spun the laptop toward me. "What about this?" I leaned forward, squinting at the screen. "Live-In Nanny Needed: Greenwood Valley Estate. Quiet, patient individual preferred. Must enjoy nature, children, and… unconventional households." I blinked. "Unconventional households? What does that even mean?" Jade shrugged. "Could be hippies. Could be rich people with a weird pet. Could be, like, a cult—" I shot her a look. "—Or," she amended, "it could be easy money, free food, and a place to live that isn’t this mold-infested hellhole." I chewed my lip. She had a point. Five minutes later, I’d sent off a half-desperate, half-rambling application. The tires of my beat-up Honda crunched over gravel as I pulled up to the Grove house, my fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel. The place was... bigger than I expected. Not some rickety cabin, but a sprawling timber-framed home with a wraparound porch, nestled between towering pines. Smoke curled from the chimney, and the entire scene looked like something off a Cozy Mountain Getaway Pinterest board. I took a deep breath, adjusting my glasses and fluffing my pink hair in the rearview mirror. Okay, Autumn. You can do this. Just don't spill anything on the hot, grumpy— BANG. Something small and energetic slammed into my car door the second I stepped out. "YOU'RE HERE!" I looked down into the brightest pair of golden eyes I'd ever seen. Wild chestnut hair, a grin missing two front teeth, and a t-shirt that said "Future Alpha" in peeling letters. Oh no. He's adorable. "You must be Bear," I said, crouching to his level. "YEP! And you're the new nanny and your hair is pink like strawberry milk and Papa said you might not stay but I want you to stay—" A deep voice cut through the air like a knife. "Bear." I froze. Slowly—very slowly—I looked up. And oh. Oh no no no. Lukas Grove was unfairly hot. Tall—so tall—with shoulders that filled out his flannel in a way that should be illegal. Dark hair slightly too long, like he kept forgetting to cut it. A jawline sharp enough to cut glass. And his eyes—gold flecked with amber, currently locked onto me with the intensity of a predator sizing up dinner. He crossed his arms, biceps straining against the fabric. "You're late." I bristled, adjusting my glasses. "Your directions said 'turn left at the boulder that looks like a frowning old man.' I circled that thing three times before I realized it was just... a rock." A muscle in his jaw twitched. Bear giggled. "Papa, she sassed you!" Lukas ignored him, his gaze never leaving mine. "You're the nanny." Wow. Sharp observation. "Last I checked," I said, swinging my duffel bag higher on my shoulder. His nostrils flared slightly. Oh, he was so annoyed. Bear grabbed my hand, vibrating with excitement. "C'mon! I wanna show you your room! It's blueand there's a window seat and—" Lukas stepped forward. "Bear. Let her get settled first." "I am settled," I chirped, grinning down at Bear. "Lead the way, tiny tour guide." Bear whooped and yanked me toward the house—right as Lukas moved to block my path. And that's when it happened. My elbow clipped the steaming mug in his hand. Hot coffee exploded across his chest. Silence. Absolute, deafening silence. Lukas looked down at the dark stain spreading across his gray henley, the fabric now clinging to every ridge of his abs. A single drop trailed down the column of his throat, disappearing beneath his collar. When his eyes snapped back to mine, they weren't just gold—they were glowing. "Are you always this reckless?" His voice was low, rough, curling around me like smoke. I swallowed hard. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? "Only around guys who are moody enough to make me anxious," I shot back, forcing my voice steady. A sharp inhale. Then— He moved. One second he was three feet away, the next he'd closed the distance, his free hand snapping out to grip my wrist. His skin was scorching, his thumb pressing against my pulse point like he could feel how fast my heart was racing. "You're dripping," he growled. Coffee slid from my sleeve onto the ground between us. Oh. Oh God. His grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to make my breath hitch. His gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering for a heartbeat too long before dragging back up. "You'll need to learn to be more careful." The words slithered down my spine. "Or what?" I challenged, hating how my voice wavered. "You'll send me packing?" His lips curled—not a smile, never a smile—just a flash of teeth that sent heat pooling low in my stomach. "Try me." Then he released me so abruptly I stumbled back, the loss of his touch like a physical ache. Bear, completely oblivious, grabbed my hand. "C'mon! I'll show you where Papa hides the chocolate!" As the kid dragged me toward the house, I glanced back one last time. Lukas was still watching me. And this time? He looked hungry.