The Morning After Troy
1725 Words
The next morning, Stacy and I nursed mugs of hot coffee in her kitchen, both of us trying to shake off the throbbing hangovers from the night before.
“So…” Stacy leaned across the counter, smiling mischievously. “I noticed you vanished for a while. Please tell me you actually got some. But if not with the guy from yesterday, then who? Because I definitely remember seeing him around when you weren’t.”
She wiggled her brows shamelessly. “Spill, you dirty little slut.”
“His name's Hugh,” I replied with a groan, my mood instantly spoiling at the memory of Troy. “And the person I was with was a bodyguard.”
Her mouth dropped open as she slapped my back playfully. “Oh. My. God. You slut!”
I rolled my eyes. “Relax. We didn’t even have sex.”
“Okay, then what?” she asked eagerly.
A vivid flashback crossed my eyes… His fingers inside me, thrusting slowly, breaking me until I’d nearly melted against that tree.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “I’d rather forget about it.” I muttered, raising the mug to my lips to hide the blush flooding my face.
Stacy’s teasing expression immediately softened. “Wait. Did he do something wrong? Athena…” She sat up straighter, wearing a look of alarm. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head.
She slumped back with a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. But at least tell me who he is. Describe him.”
I hesitated before replying, “Tall… about 6’4. Broad shoulders. Large biceps. Buzz cut…”
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Stone-cold expression? Dark eyes like coal?”
“Yeah.”
Stacy slapped the counter. “Oh my f*****g God. I know him. He’s so hot.” Her brown eyes shone. “I noticed him yesterday too, but he wouldn’t even look my way.”
She leaned in closer. “So? Do you like him or not?”
“He’s a jerk,” I whispered sadly.
Stacy scoffed. “Tell me about it. They usually are… but rumor has it guys like that..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They give the best sex.”
I groaned. “Stacyyyy.”
She giggled. “So, what's up with you guys? What exactly happened yesterday? Details, please.”
I let out a long breath and told Stacy everything, right from our first meet-cute at the annual festival.
“Damn,” she muttered. “You guys are on some forbidden-romance-type shit.”
I scoffed. “It would be if he actually acted like he wanted me. At least then I’d know we were both head over heels and could figure it out. But Troy’s unpredictable. I’m done having hope for him.” I sipped my coffee. “What I need is to move on. We’re not even a thing, and look how messed up my emotions are. It’s toxic.”
“You’re right,” she said, twirling the tip of her ponytail absentmindedly. “Forget him. I mean, how hard could it be to forget that face? Or those shoulders?”
I shot her a look.
She grinned. “Or those arms.”
“Screw you, Stace.”
She laughed. “Fine, fine. But I’m making it my personal mission to help you move on, babe.”
Her expression changed suddenly. “That reminds me… What about Hugh?”
“We text sometimes. He’s been asking to meet up, but…”
“But?”
I shrugged. “He doesn’t make me feel…”
Stacy waited for me to finish, but my mind drifted back to how everything inside me felt warm and restless around Troy. How every nerve inside me simmered like I was on low heat.
“...alive,” I whispered.
Stacy chuckled, taking out cups to the sink. “Girl, you’ve got it bad for that bodyguard. But don’t worry, we’ll purge him out of your system in no time.”
I followed her. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“Easy,” she said, smirking. “Embrace your inner w***e. Everyone's got one.”
Her dimples deepened as she smiled. “Flirt shamelessly. Tease. Make out with hot guys. Eventually, you’ll find someone worth your time. We’ll just have to make sure your dad or any of your brothers never finds out.”
I stared at her. “You give terrible advice.”
She guffawed, “Darling, as long as it works, who cares?”
Stacy turned to face me. “So, are you in or out?”
It took me a moment to reply. But when I did, I smiled. “I'm so in.”
†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††
Later that day, our family sat down to dinner with another wolf pack. The Strays.
We weren’t friends or enemies. We were just two packs sharing the same region and acknowledging each other out of necessity rather than loyalty.
When Ares had told me earlier that afternoon that we’d be dining with the Alpha and his men, my first thought was why. My second thought—which was more like a prayer—was that this wasn’t going to be some pathetic attempt to stake a claim on me.
Nigel Bradford was not my type.
He was proud, loud, unruly, and mannerless. Physically, he had the face and the body that would turn heads. But I felt zero attraction to him.
I kept my focus on my plate, blocking out the lively chatter around the table.
“Princess.”
His voice caused me to look up, and I forced a polite smile.
“Something on your mind?” Nigel asked, toying with his fork. “You look troubled.”
“I’m fine, Alpha Bradford. Thank you for your concern.”
He didn’t sit properly like someone raised with even a shred of etiquette. He lounged in his chair lazily, making himself look comfortable where he didn’t belong.
“If anyone’s bothering you, all you have to do is give me a name,” he said casually, throwing a grape in his mouth.
I rolled my eyes inwardly. Like he could take Troy on. f*****g bozo.
It took a lot of effort maintaining the fake smile, but I kept it up. “I assure you, I’m fine, Alpha Bradford.”
“Call me Nigel,” he said.
Beside me, I could feel Slade’s eyeroll of disgust.
“Thank you, Nigel,” I replied.
He smirked, leaning his weight on the table. “Let’s get to the reason I’m here tonight.”
With a signal, one of his men rose from the table, followed by three more. They left and returned moments later, carrying in heavy, oversized boxes.
My parents and brothers exchanged a look. Then all of them looked at me.
A look that said the obvious:
He. Wants. You.
I fought back a groan.
Once the men finished setting the boxes down and returned to their seats, Nigel turned toward me.
“I’ve had my sights on you for quite some time now, Athena,” he began, that cocky smirk plastered on his face.
My name sounded off coming from him. So wrong.
It belonged to only one mouth.
It sounded good on only one man’s lips, and Nigel Bradford wasn’t him.
“What is this, Nigel?” my father asked, already annoyed. “You can’t just spring something like this on us. You said you wanted dinner. You mentioned nothing of…”
“Well, I’m mentioning it now, aren’t I?” Nigel guffawed loudly.“Come on, we’re all mature here.”
He looked around the table, grinning like a dope. “Give your daughter to me. We all know it’ll be beneficial for us both.”
“Why are you speaking like I’m not here?” I cut in sharply.
I was done pretending. Done with this stupid happy façade. And my mood was still all over the place because of Troy.
“I’m right here,” I continued, leaning forward. “I’m the one you want as your mate. Face me.”
Nigel’s smirk deepened. “Oh, you’re feisty. I like that.”
“You have no manners, do you?” I shot back.
“Athena,” Robin warned under his breath.
I ignored him.
“You come in here, act like you’re king of my home, eat like you’ve never seen fine china, laugh like a drunk at a tavern… Then you dump gifts and think that entitles you to me?” I scoffed, throwing my napkin aside. “Who even does that?” The anger and irritation seeped into my tone. “Who springs a mating claim on someone in the middle of dinner like this… so… classlessly?”
The table went silent.
“And what makes you think I’d even want you?” I continued, gesturing to him. “Let me guess… oh, you’ve got a decent face, a decent fortune, and a pile of boxes you think will impress me. That’s it? T-that’s all? I’m just supposed to get on my knees to thank you happily, say yes, get marked, and play happy mates forever?”
“Thena…” My mother’s voice was soft but a warning nonetheless, but I didn’t stop.
“I refuse to be your mate, Nigel Bradford,” I said, throwing my napkin on the table. “This is me rejecting you.”
For a long moment, Nigel was silent. The entire table was silent.
Even Father, Mother, and my brothers were speechless.
Then Nigel let out a long, dry laugh.
“And here I thought you were the most polite and composed of your siblings,” he said, looking at my brothers.
He turned to my parents, gesturing lazily toward me with one finger. “You raised quite the little vixen, didn’t you?”
“Can’t blame her for coming at you like that,” Slade said coldly. His eyes were dark with anger.
Nigel ignored him, smiling at me. “Reconsider my offer, Princess.”
- Writer
