THE ALPHA'S SECOND CHANCE MATE

A QUIET GESTURE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A Quiet Gesture

ELENA'S POV

FEW DAYS LATER

I hated how I noticed the little things about him.

Like how, whenever I walked into the packhouse kitchen, there was always a steaming cup of coffee waiting for me. Black, just how I liked it. And I certainly hadn’t told anyone about my weird habit of drinking it at odd times of the day. But somehow, Liam had figured it out.

I walked over to the counter, eyeing the cup suspiciously, my fingers curling around the warmth of the mug. It felt... nice. That was the worst part—because it made me feel like he was paying attention to things no one else had bothered with before. I wanted to believe it was just coincidence.

But it kept happening.

“Are you ever going to say thank you, or are you planning to keep staring at it like I’ve poisoned it?” His voice came from behind me, casual yet filled with that faint teasing tone that seemed to get under my skin every time.

I turned, seeing him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I didn’t ask for it,” I shot back, taking a defiant sip anyway.

“No, but you drink it every time.” His lips quirked up into a smile that was way too charming for his own good.

I narrowed my eyes at him, refusing to let him get to me. “You’re trying too hard.”

Liam shrugged as he pushed off from the wall and sauntered over, his movements annoyingly graceful for someone so large. “I’m not trying at all, Elena. Just doing what any Alpha would for his pack members.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered under my breath, though I knew he heard me. His hearing was too sharp to miss anything. I hated how the warmth from the coffee was seeping into my bones, making me feel more comfortable in his presence than I wanted to admit.

“Would it kill you to say thanks once in a while?” he asked, grabbing an apple from the counter and taking a bite, his eyes still locked on me.

“Probably,” I replied dryly, though there was less bite in my words than I’d intended. He had a way of breaking down my defenses without even trying, and it pissed me off.

Liam just chuckled, the sound deep and genuine, which only irritated me more because it was... nice. Again with the nice things.

“Suit yourself,” he said, tossing the apple core in the bin. “But just so you know, I’m not going anywhere.”

I set the cup down harder than necessary, the clang of ceramic on the counter echoing in the otherwise quiet room. “What do you want, Liam? Why are you doing this?”

He raised an eyebrow, his playful expression faltering slightly, replaced with something more serious. “Doing what?”

“All of this.” I gestured vaguely at the coffee cup, at the way he was always just... there. “You’re making me coffee, stepping in at pack meetings like I can’t handle it myself, showing up at every corner like some kind of protective shadow. What are you expecting out of this? You think I’m going to suddenly just...”

“Suddenly what?” he interrupted softly, taking a step closer. His proximity made my heart race in a way I desperately tried to ignore. “Trust me? Fall for me? You think this is some well plotted plan, Elena?”

I swallowed hard, hating how his presence seemed to fill the room, his scent—like fresh pine and earth—tugging at something deep inside me. I hated how that scent had become familiar, comforting even, when it shouldn’t be.

“I don’t know what I think,” I admitted, my voice quieter now, more vulnerable than I intended.

Liam’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the playful glint was gone, replaced with sincerity. “I’m not expecting anything from you. I’m just... here. You’ve been through hell, and I’m not trying to add to that. I’m just... trying to make things easier for you, even if it’s something as small as a cup of coffee.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him that I didn’t need him, that I didn’t need anyone, but the words didn’t come. Because maybe, just maybe, a part of me liked that he was there. And that scared me more than anything.

“I’m not asking you to trust me, Elena,” he continued, stepping back slightly to give me space, as if sensing the tension in the air. “I know you don’t, and I get why. But I’m not going anywhere, no matter how hard you try to push me away. So you can keep being stubborn, or you can accept the fact that I’m here.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning.

“Why?” I asked, barely more than a whisper. “Why do you care?”

Liam’s eyes darkened for a moment, as if the question had struck something deep inside him. “Because I see you,” he said quietly. “I see more than just the hurt and the walls you’ve built. I see the strength, the fighter. And I can’t help but care.”

My throat tightened at his words, a part of me wanting to reject them, to throw them back in his face. But another part of me—the part that was tired of fighting, tired of being alone—couldn’t help but be touched by the honesty in his voice.

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “You shouldn’t,” I whispered. “You shouldn’t care.”

“Too late for that.”

I didn’t have a response for that, so I picked up the coffee cup again, taking another sip to buy myself some time. It was still warm, still comforting. And I hated that, too.

Liam watched me for a moment longer before turning to leave, but not before throwing one last comment over his shoulder.

“And you’re welcome for the coffee, by the way.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at the corner of my lips as I muttered under my breath, “Thank you.”