Rooming With the Grumpy Biker Alpha

Chapter 008

EDWARD’S POV

Layla Foster is on her way here, and for some reason, my wolf is acting like it’s his birthday…which, for the record, he doesn’t have.

[Come on, buddy. You’re not even a little excited?] he rumbles, far too pleased with himself.

“No.” I yank the fridge open, grab a bottle of water, and drain half of it in one go. “I just want answers. How she’s connected to Mum… and yeah, get her to tutor me. That’s it. There’s nothing exciting about it.”

I head back to the living room and drop onto the sofa, already reaching for my phone when the doorbell rings.

My head lifts, brows pulling together. That was fast.

I push up and make my way to the door, pulling it open and my eyes lock with Layla or should I say, her two oversized lenses.

“Hi.” She whispers.

Slowly, I drag my gaze over her without me meaning to. I take in her dress, the way she’s holding onto her bag like she’s not sure what to do with herself, and like she’s trying to take up less space than she actually does.

I blink, forcing my gaze back up to her face.

She’s staring too but not at me—well, not exactly. Her eyes keep flicking to my arm, to the tattoos, like she’s never seen any before. Or like she has and just… doesn’t like them.

“You’re finally here.” I step back, letting her in.

She slips past me, kicking off her shoes by the door. I shut the door and turn, catching her looking around the place, her lips slightly parted as she adjusts her glasses.

“This place is huge,” she says, pressing her lips together after. “I used to visit Colt sometimes at his Alpha lodge, but it wasn’t even close to this big.”

The nerve of her comparing me to that small coward from her small pack.

Unlike the rest of the students here, heirs get private lodges, a whole section of campus to ourselves called Alpha housing. And they’re not handed out randomly either. They are assigned based on rank, size and power which is basically the kind of things my father would sell my soul for.

I take a step closer. “You look fine for someone who was crying her eyes out on the phone.” She immediately steps back. I frown, the movement rubbing me the wrong way, and lift a brow. “Why are you backing away?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Thank you again for… paying my tuition and letting me stay here.”

“It’s not for free, so don’t thank me.” I start down the hallway, expecting her to follow but she doesn’t move.

I exhale, spin around, and fix her with a look. “Do you want to see your room or not?”

She nods quickly and runs up to me. I open the door, gesturing her in and the second she steps inside, her eyes go wide, like she just walked into heaven.

Except, slowly, her face starts to shift from surprise to… is that disgust I see?

She turns to face me, and despite her attempt to hide it, I can tell she’s not happy. The girl’s so innocent, you can practically guess what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth.

“Thank you for the big room.” She gestures around, forcing a smile that’s really more of a grimace. “It’s so lovely that you painted it pink… got me a pink table, pink bedsheet, pillows, and yayyy, even the blinds are pink.”

Yayyy. She actually said yayyy. To my face, in my lodge.

I plant my hands on my hips. “What’s wrong with that? You girls like pink.”

“That’s a stereotype.” She cuts in, a little too fast. “And even if I like pink, everything doesn’t have to be… pink. But I’m not complaining at all.” She lowers her voice, almost a whisper. “Not like I have a choice.”

Okay, first of all, I went out of my way to make her feel comfortable and girly because she just gives off the vibe that she’d like her entire room painted pink. And second, nobody makes snarky comments to me like that while, by the way, receiving favors from me.

[You say that like you do favors for anybody.] My wolf chips in. One of these days, I’m going to force him into hibernation.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” Layla’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“I have some rules,” I respond. “I want us to get along though I don’t really get along with most people. They’re usually stupid and can’t follow boundaries. Hopefully, you’re different.”

She hesitates, narrowing her eyes. “Have you considered that maybe you’re the problem? I mean, I’m not saying it’s entirely you, but sometimes…” She trails off when she sees the look on my face. “Yes… please, go on with your rules.”

[I like her already.]

“If you say one more word, I’ll eat an unhealthy amount of garlic to weaken you for five days,” I snap at him. He growls and goes silent.

I return my focus to Layla. She’s staring, waiting, and biting her lip just a little.

“So… rules,” I say, stepping closer, catching the way she swallows. “First, my room is off-limits. Don’t even think about coming in. Knock only on very special occasions, maybe if you’re dying, or close to it. Everything else? Nicholas will handle it, and you’ll see him soon enough.”

She nods. “Noted.”

“Second, no interfering in my life or each other’s,” I continue. “You can bring friends over if you have any, I won’t mind. Boyfriends are tolerated too… as long as you’re not noisy.”

She tilts her head. “Noisy?” Her voice is small like she’s trying to puzzle out what I mean.

“s*x,” I say bluntly. Then, against my better judgment, I look her over again. “Or are you—”

“Sure.” She cuts me off quickly, blinking a little too fast. “I understand. Do you have any other rules?”

Is it just me, or is she acting weird about the s*x thing?

“Anyway,” I shove my hands in my pockets. “The last rule I want you to remember is that you’re not my type.”

[You made that a rule] my wolf snickers.

“Shut up.”

[A whole numbered rule.]

“I said shut up.”

I roll my eyes and focus on Layla again. “So glasses, don’t try to change my mind...no flirting, no shooting your shot because it won’t work and it’ll just make things awkward between us. Got it?”

Her nose scrunches, and she glares at me with barely contained disgust and anger… before flicking her expression into something else the next second.

“I’m not interested in you either so you don’t have to worry,” she says, putting space between us. “You’ll barely notice I’m here except when I want to tutor you. And, I have my own rules, if you don’t mind.”

“You have rules?” I ask, flabbergasted because one of us is paying for this place and it isn’t her. “What are they?”

She exhales, squares her shoulders, and lifts a hand to adjust her glasses. Then she just rambles it off:

“My room is out of bounds. And if by any chance you ever walk in on me naked because I’m terrified that will happen, please just take the image and the secret to your grave and never bring it up. Also, I’d like you to dress properly around me, and not just wear sleeveless shirts, not that I’m attracted to you, but just for decency. And please… don’t flirt with me too.”

She sucks in a deep breath as she finishes and plasters a fake smile.

I scoff, my mouth dropping open. I can’t even tell if I’m shocked by her audacity or her cluelessness. I mean, it takes a lot to piss me off and at the same time amaze me and she’s doing pretty well at both in less than thirty minutes here.

“I have no intentions of flirting with you, glasses,” I say firmly. “You should be more scared that my wolf might attack you during one of my runs. That’s more likely than whatever’s going on in your head.”

“When do you run?” she asks quietly. “And what’s your wolf’s name? Mine’s Oakie.”

My wolf goes very still when she says Oakie. I feel something shift in him that I absolutely refuse to interpret as fondness. His name is Zyrax. Hers is Oakie. That will never work.

“Zyrax,” I respond and he growls. “I run mostly at night. I’d advise you pick a different time. Now, unpack, and I’ll see you later.”

I turn and leave, shutting the door behind me. As I stroll back to the living room, I shake my head. Flirt with her?