Sired to the alpha

15

The day before the cinema felt like it stretched endlessly, like time itself had decided to mess with me. I hadn’t heard from Ryker since the coffee shop incident, and honestly, that was probably a good thing. My brain needed time to stop spinning every time I thought about him—and that smirk, and the way his voice could melt me like butter on a summer day.

I spent most of the afternoon lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying not to replay every single interaction we’d had so far. It wasn’t working.

Josh, of course, had no intention of letting me wallow in peace.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, flopping onto my bed without an invitation.

“Doing what?” I asked, even though I already knew.

“Obsessing.” He shot me a look, one eyebrow arched like he was some kind of mind reader. “Seriously, Evangeline, if you keep this up, you’re going to burn a hole in your brain.”

“I’m not obsessing,” I lied, hugging a pillow to my chest.

“Oh, please.” He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. “You’ve been in a daze since the moment he walked into that coffee shop. And don’t even get me started on the way you two were looking at each other. It was like I was watching a bad rom-com unfold in real time.”

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. “Josh, can we not do this right now?”

“Fine,” he said, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told me he wasn’t done. “But just so you know, I approve.”

I lifted my head just enough to glare at him. “Approve of what?”

“Ryker,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Josh, I don’t even know him.”

“And yet, he has you all flustered and blushing like a high schooler with a crush,” he teased, grinning.

“Can you just…not?” I muttered, throwing the pillow at his head. He dodged it with ease, laughing as he rolled off the bed.

“Alright, fine. I’ll leave you to your brooding.” He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the frame. “But don’t overthink it, Evangeline. Sometimes, the best things happen when you just go with it.”

When he left, the silence in my room felt heavier somehow. I sighed, lying back down and staring at the ceiling again.

He wasn’t wrong. I was overthinking it. But how could I not? There was something about Ryker that felt…different. Dangerous, even.

And yet, I couldn’t seem to stay away.

The next day, I found myself wandering through the small bookstore a few blocks from my apartment. It was one of my favorite places to escape, a little haven where the world seemed to quiet down for a while.

I was thumbing through a novel I’d picked up at random when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Ryker: What’s your favorite movie?

I stared at the screen, my heart doing that stupid flip thing again.

Me: That’s a loaded question. Why?

His reply came almost instantly.

Ryker: Just doing some research.

I frowned, biting my lip as I typed back.

Me: For what?

Ryker: You’ll see tomorrow.

I rolled my eyes, even though a small smile tugged at my lips.

Me: Cryptic much?

Ryker: Always.

Shaking my head, I slid my phone back into my pocket and tried to refocus on the book in my hands. But it was no use. Ryker had officially taken up permanent residence in my head, and I had no idea how to evict him.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough

By the time night rolled around, the buzzing energy from Ryker’s text had settled into a low hum that I couldn’t shake off. Josh had invited himself over, as usual, claiming he needed a break from his roommate, who was apparently “more interested in reality TV than reality itself.”

Not that I minded. Josh’s sleepovers were always fun, filled with late-night gossip and ridiculous jokes that made my sides hurt from laughing. He showed up just after dinner with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a six-pack of soda in his hands.

“I come bearing gifts,” he announced, waltzing into my apartment like he owned the place.

“Wow, soda. Truly, you’ve outdone yourself,” I said, shutting the door behind him.

“Don’t act like you’re not thrilled,” he shot back, plopping his bag onto the floor. “Where’s the popcorn? I’m feeling a rom-com marathon tonight.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Popcorn’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

He saluted me before disappearing into the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets like he lived here. Moments later, he returned with a bag of microwave popcorn and a smug grin.

“Found it,” he said, holding it up like it was a trophy. “Now, what’s the first movie on the list?”

I shrugged, flopping onto the couch. “You’re the one who insisted on rom-coms. Pick something.”

Josh collapsed beside me, pulling his phone out to scroll through streaming options. “Alright, let’s see… Ooh, how about 10 Things I Hate About You? Classic, funny, and Heath Ledger was a god among men.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I said, leaning back against the cushions.

As the movie started, Josh handed me the bag of popcorn, which I promptly stole and held out of his reach.

“Hey!” he protested. “Sharing is caring, Evangeline!”

“Too bad,” I teased, popping a handful of buttery goodness into my mouth.

Josh lunged for the bag, and before I knew it, we were in a full-blown tug-of-war, popcorn spilling onto the couch as we both dissolved into laughter.

“Okay, okay!” I gasped, finally letting go. “You win!”

“Damn right, I win,” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

We settled down after that, watching the movie in companionable silence, interrupted only by Josh’s occasional commentary.

“See, this is why you need a Patrick Verona in your life,” he said during one of the iconic scenes.

I snorted. “What, so he can serenade me in front of the whole school?”

“Exactly!” Josh said, throwing a piece of popcorn at me. “You deserve that kind of grand gesture, Evangeline.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. Deep down, I couldn’t help wondering what kind of grand gestures Ryker might be capable of—if he even did that sort of thing.

By the time the credits rolled, it was well past midnight. We’d made it through two more movies, demolished the popcorn, and cracked open the sodas.

“So,” Josh said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “What’s the deal with you and Mr. Broody McSmirk?”

I groaned, burying my face in a throw pillow. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling the pillow away. “We absolutely do. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” I said, though the heat rising to my cheeks probably gave me away.

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Evangeline, come on. You’re blushing just thinking about him.”

“I am not!”

He gave me a look.

“Okay, fine,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “Maybe I think he’s…interesting.”

Josh snorted. “Interesting? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“What do you want me to say?” I shot back. “That he’s frustrating and mysterious and ridiculously attractive and I have no idea what to do with any of it?”

“Yes!” Josh said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

I groaned again, flopping back onto the couch. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you keep inviting me over,” he said, nudging my leg with his foot.

“You invited yourself,” I reminded him.

“Semantics,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow? Are you going to finally make a move?”

“Make a move?” I echoed, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Josh, this isn’t some rom-com where everything magically falls into place. I don’t even know what he wants.”

Josh shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

“And that is?”

“Ask him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because that won’t be awkward at all.”

“Better than sitting here overthinking everything,” he said.

I hated that he had a point.

We spent the next hour debating hypothetical scenarios involving Ryker, most of which were completely ridiculous. By the time we finally dragged ourselves to bed, my cheeks hurt from laughing, and I felt lighter than I had in days.

Josh claimed the couch, wrapping himself in a blanket like a burrito.

“Goodnight, Evangeline,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Goodnight, Josh,” I replied, smiling to myself as I turned off the lights.

As I lay in bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryker’s text.

Tomorrow would be interesting, to say the least.