A Is for Alpha Male

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A Is for Alpha Male Page 9

by Laurel Curtis


  “And to be honest with you, that kills me. There’s nothing I want more in this world than your happiness, bold and in your face and shoved right down everyone’s throats.”

  That was pretty much the perfect description of my personality. And it was also disconcerting that he knew that seeing as I had just met him a couple of days ago.

  How did he already know me so well?

  I didn’t want this to be awkward, and it was beyond obvious that Danny already felt bad enough about the situation, so I tried to give him the best out I could.

  “Forget it. It’s obvious to both of us that I was feeling a little differently about our relationship than you were, but it’s totally cool. I get it now, and bottom line, I want you as my friend, Dan Smith. So, no big deal. We’ll move past it.”

  I expected to see his face relax, to watch the tension recede, but if anything, the line of his jaw turned even harder and more severe.

  He took a deep breath, the air leaving him in a heaving sigh and forming a breathy “Fuck” on the way out.

  Moving his beautiful eyes back to mine, he asked, “You’re going to leave tomorrow?”

  When I nodded in the affirmative, he questioned me further. “Will you tell me everywhere your going, call me every day, and let me help ascertain if guys fulfill the list or not?”

  I considered teasing him about already having a mom, but decided against it. I wanted to keep talking to him because I was almost positive I would miss him, and the fact that he wanted me to check in with him for so many things made me feel all gooey inside.

  Keeping my face serious, a rare occurrence, I looked deep into his eyes and told him, “Yeah, Danny. To all of it, yeah.”

  At that, his face relaxed a little. Not completely, but a little.

  Still mildly uncomfortable in the moment, my goofy side took over.

  Shouting a quick, “Race you to the water,” I took off down the beach, avoiding people by jockeying left and right and trying not to kick sand in people’s faces.

  From what I’d observed previously, it really pissed people off when you did that.

  I beat Danny down there, which wasn’t all that shocking since I had flat out cheated, but I still celebrated the victory by doing a little dance in the knee deep water. It wasn’t at all coordinated and looked somewhat similar to Elaine’s dancing on Seinfeld, but I got down with my bad self nonetheless.

  When Danny got to the water he was still at a dead run, headed right for me, and showing no signs of slowing down or stopping.

  I started to cower, my hands coming up in a protective position and my body folding into itself, all the while squealing, “Please, please, please no!”

  Danny burst out laughing at my freak out, slid to a stop in the water right next to me, and scooped me up into his arms with an arm around my waist and the other behind my knees.

  I saw where this was headed, immediately regretted my decision to challenge him to a race, and started pleading, “No, Danny. Please no!”

  He smiled big and bright, waded his way a little deeper into the water, and squeezed me even tighter against his firm body.

  I was starting to get really scared at this point, so I switched my tone from pleading to demanding, hoping it would make a difference.

  “Danny, seriously, put me down!” As he took another two steps toward the deeper water, I screamed again, “Don’t you dare!”

  I saw a devilish twinkle come into his eyes, and I knew I was in trouble.

  He took off at a full run, jumping and dunking us both unceremoniously under water when he got stomach deep.

  Underneath the water, a wave battered me, my body rolling and slamming into the sandy floor, and I struggled not to choke down a full gallon of salt water.

  I came up sputtering, and Danny immediately latched onto my hips, pulling me toward him through the water.

  Pissed off, I shoved at his chest and kicked with my legs, yelling, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Let go of me,” and all in all behaving just a few punches and shrieks short of the likes of a psychopath.

  Danny kept a firm hold on me, paying no obvious attention to my outburst.

  “If a shark attacks us, I will scratch your back until you bleed and leave you for dead, I swear to God,” I kept going.

  Danny burst out laughing, but I paid no attention.

  “It’s every man for themselves,” I said as I continued to try to swim back to shore.

  His laughter never even faded as I told him, “You’re going to be like chum in the water!”

  Danny didn’t let go, but instead pulled me flush against his body and lifted his hand to wipe the hair out of my face, a super-strength smile still in place on his, the joy and excitement he was feeling even showing in his eyes. In fact, even Tyra Banks would be impressed by his ability to “smize”.

  “How is it possible that you are still deathly afraid of sharks?” he asked.

  That struck me as a strange question, so I asked for clarification. “Still?”

  His eyes flashed, and he answered, “Yeah, baby doll. Still. At the age of twenty-seven.”

  Oh. Well, that made sense. And still being afraid of sharks made perfect sense to me. I still acted like a child the majority of the time, so why shouldn’t I still have my same childhood fears?

  Plus, his face was so welcoming and his eyes were so affectionate. It made it hard to hold onto the anger.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, in a bold move meant for protection rather than flirting, and forgetting my earlier disgruntlement, I demanded, “You’ll just have to protect me I guess.” However, I thought it was best to clarify, so I added, “But I will sacrifice you for the sake of me. Make no mistake.”

  What?

  That sounded mean?

  Sure, I liked him, but I barely knew him. And he didn’t like me, like me. I had spent far too many years being self-serving to be any nicer than that.

  He just smiled and murmured, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Hales.”

  All I could do was stare at him.

  The way he said that was so genuine and easy that I couldn’t help but marvel at it. Apparently, my selfishness not only outweighed his, but it did so exponentially.

  “So tell me about these books,” he said, breaking the trance I was in and bringing me back to reality.

  Thinking he was a little bit crazy, I questioned, “Here? Right now?”

  He nodded his head, his lips tipping up at the ends. Little droplets of water glistened off of his facial hair as he murmured, “Why not here or now? You have something better to do?”

  I just shook my head as he casually slid his hands from my knees to the underside of my thighs and settled them there, holding me up at the same time that I hung off of him with my feet locked around his back.

  Whatever.

  If we were going to stay in the stupid ocean, I was going to need a distraction anyway.

  From the water, sharks, and our current position.

  Not sure where to start, I muttered, “I don’t know. The books by this author are just so real feeling.” Danny’s eyes focused intently on me, and I drew confidence from the seriousness with which he was watching me. It didn’t feel like he was going to judge or make fun of me for my answer. He genuinely wanted to know about my books and what they meant to me.

  “You become beyond invested in the characters...feel like you know them. Feel like you are them. The stories are good, but to me, the characters make the difference. They’re the kind of characters you’d read about watching TV, or I don’t know, clipping their nails. You’d read about them doing the most inane of tasks just because you’re that invested in them,” I explained, my voice ringing soundly with passion.

  “And what about the men in these books? What makes them so special?” he asked on a squeeze of my thighs.

  I let my eyes wander, scanning the cloudless sky, as I thought about my answer. “Well, I guess it’s the same thing to a certain extent. They feel so real. The qu
alities on the list are part of what makes them attractive, and they say the right things, of course. I guess part of it is just the genre of book. I’m pretty sure it’s an innocent until proven guilty kind of thing. Except, in this case, you like them until they do something to make you not like them. It’s a romance, so you’re already rooting for their happy ending. But mostly, they’re so sure in their knowledge that that girl is the one for them that they won’t take no for an answer. And instead of changing the usually wild heroine, they take what she is and enhance it. Make her the best version of herself.”

  He smiled big and broad and responded, “Okay, Hales. That’s the end of your pop quiz for now. Just tell me some of your favorite titles.”

  Curious, I attempted to raise an eyebrow, failed, and asked, “Why?”

  He just shrugged, casual as could be, and stated, “Because I’m going to read them while you’re gone. I can’t be very much help if I don’t do the research, now can I?”

  Dan Smith was a conundrum that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to solve. A conflicting mix of rugged and soft, inquisitive but private, and all wrapped up in a person who pulled you so close you couldn’t breathe at the same time that he pushed you away.

  Dan Smith. What an understated name for such a complex person.

  Considering my words carefully, I bargained, “I’ll tell you the titles if you tell me what your tattoo means.”

  His face started to close down and he clenched his jaw, but then he stopped it. It was the strangest thing to watch. He was halfway through the process of shutting down, and then he cut the action off right at the knees.

  “Which one?”

  “What do you mean, ‘which one’? Do you have more than one?” I asked in confusion, but also thinking if he had another one that was covered up right now, I wanted to know about it in detail.

  He smirked and said, “Well, just this one,” gesturing with his chin toward his chest, “And the zebra stripes on my dick.”

  Completely reactionary, kind of like a muscle spasm, I reared back and punched him in the shoulder as hard as I could, simultaneously yelling though a smile, “You jerk!”

  When he just smiled in reaction to my punch, I knew I needed to work on my strength training.

  “I guess you just hear everything,” I grumbled.

  He started to chuckle, but I cut it off, clarifying, “No, Dan-o, I don’t need any further explanation about the zebra stripes.”

  His smile disappeared, a slow fade out of the humor and into reality, and he seemed to be working up to telling me something.

  Finally, after several seconds of silence, he murmured, “I got it to symbolize my world always being just out of my reach.”

  I lifted my left hand and gently ran my fingertips over it, taking in the different lines and shapes that made up the world. “It’s beautiful, Danny, but I’m not sure I understand,” I whispered.

  His thumbs stroked my thighs and his hazel eyes searched mine as he vowed, “One day, Hales, I’ll make sure you understand.”

  Slowly unlatching my feet and bring my legs back to the front of his body, I unwrapped myself from him completely and whispered, “We should get back to Allison.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked as he responded, “Right.”

  Carefully moving toward the shore, he wrapped my arm around his shoulder, his around my waist, and moved me with him, protecting me from the waves and doing most of the work for me.

  We walked the water’s edge on our way back to Allison, the silence practically deafening. When we were almost back, I once again dove into the breach. “The titles you should definitely check out include but are not limited to Sweet Dreams, At Peace, Lady Luck...Fuck. You know what? You better just read as many Kristen Ashley books as you can because I was setting up to list them all.”

  Chuckling, he reached for my hand as we walked, his fingers lacing with mine so effortlessly that I didn’t even really notice. Meanwhile, I kept muttering, “Yeah ‘cause, shit, Mystery Man is such a good one, too. Crap! Motorcycle Man. Yeah, definitely Motorcycle Man. Oh my God, the hot bunch. You’ve gotta try to get to the Rock Chick Series, too. Actually, you should probably start with that. Shit. I hope you like to read.”

  He just smiled down at me as we approached Allison and my vacant chair beside her. She looked up and saw us coming, and then moved her eyes to my tote bag, rifling through it and pulling out my phone.

  When we got to her, I could hear it ringing, and she looked at the screen briefly before informing me, “It’s Hunter.”

  I figured Danny would be curious, so as I reached for the phone, I explained, “It’s my brother.”

  He nodded, his face emitting a strange mix of emotions. I didn’t know much about his family other than his uncle, so maybe his slideshow of expressions had something to do with that.

  Putting that on the deal-with-later shelf, I hit the screen to answer and greeted, “Hey, Brother.”

  My eyes were focused on Danny and assessing until I heard Hunter say, “He’s dead.”

  My body jerked at the words, and all of my energy focused on the phone call. “Who’s dead?”

  I mean, he could be talking about a lot of people. The old, frail mailman, Sal. The guy who stole Hunter’s sandwich the other day at work. My mom’s ex-husband.

  “He is dead, Sis,” Hunter explained.

  It wouldn’t seem like that was an explanation, but it was. That kind of inflection from Hunter could only refer to one person.

  Ryan Parker’s murderer.

  “Fuck, Hunt. God, I’m so happy for you,” I said, unshed tears coating my eyes. “Go have a beer tonight. Celebrate.”

  “Already on it, Sis. Just wanted to share the good news,” he said, speaking so softly that not only could I barely hear him, but he also sounded nothing like the strong, untouchable brother I knew.

  I could feel a scary vibe emanating off of Danny, but I had lost the ability to multitask and thought Hunter took precedence at that moment.

  “Thanks, Hunt. Love you.”

  “Bottom of my heart,” he murmured softly.

  Disconnect.

  Pulling the phone away from my face, checking the screen, and tossing it back in my tote bag, I turned around to find Danny’s eyes beyond intense and locked tightly on me.

  I thought back through my conversation with Hunter and realized how it must have sounded to an outsider.

  Shit. An explanation would probably be good at this point in time.

  “I know that sounds horrible. To celebrate someone’s death. But let me explain it,” I hedged slowly, trying to read Danny’s thoughts as I went.

  Danny didn’t say a word, just crossed his arms over his chest in “Alpha Pose” and waited to hear my elucidation.

  Figuring he would either take me as I was or leave me, a philosophy I prided myself on, I delved straight into the rest of my explanation, my voice steady and sure.

  “See, Ryan Parker was Hunter’s very best childhood friend. Mine too, really.” Okay, so I had done nothing but argue with him at the time, but that’s what kids did. In hindsight, I only saw him as a positive staple in my life.

  Danny’s eyes flashed, but his lips stayed pressed together and his body stayed locked down, so I pressed on. “They did absolutely everything together until one day...they couldn’t.”

  My voice shook, unable to keep my emotion separate, as I stated, “José Franco murdered Ryan Parker, his older brother, and his parents one night in their own home. For years, no one has ever known what really happened that night, except that it was so brutal, all of the funerals were closed casket and combined into some kind of mass, group, family funeral. It was fucking horrible.”

  I could see the Adam’s apple in his throat bobbing, but he gave absolutely nothing else away. I also knew Allison was there, in the background, silently listening to and observing every word spoken and the reactions they caused. But I only had enough concentration for one person. And at the moment, that person was Danny. />
  “Hunter never got over it. Frankly, none of us did. But Hunter...he’s dedicated his life to it. He was only eight years old, but he felt deep, even at such a young age, and every day, every hour, every minute, the loss of his friend eats at him. They never nailed down enough evidence to prosecute Ryan’s case, but they got José. A couple of years ago. Got him for running drugs, guns, girls, you name it. Put him in prison.”

  His arms had fallen to his sides and his hands were clenched in fists, his eyes pointed down at the sand and unmoving.

  “Turns out prison isn’t all that great a place for the likes of José, seeing as even other criminals don’t like guys who are rumored to fancy young kids.” I watched his fists squeeze even tighter before finishing, “And as of today, he’s dead.”

  His eyes lifted to mine, and I could have sworn they were shiny with wetness. But I didn’t have long enough to confirm because they jerked to some point over my shoulder and never came back. He ate up two large steps, pressed his lips to my ear, the rest of his body held tight and distant, and murmured, “Call me, Hales. And do it soon,” his voice roughened by emotion.

  His body was tense and seemingly locked there for a few fleeting moments before he forced it to move, stepping around me, nodding at Allison, and taking off up the beach toward the parking lot at a jog.

  Dumbstruck, I twisted my torso, looking over my shoulder to watch him go.

  What in the hell had just happened?

  STILL REELING A little from Danny’s sudden and brisk departure, Allison and I attempted to shrug it off by settling back into our chairs to finish out our day at the beach.

  I tried desperately to turn my brain off, to stop the constant yoyo-ing of my thoughts, but it didn’t take long to decide I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own.

  I was going to need help.

  The kind of coddling only a mother could provide.

  “Well, Allison. You’re up at bat. I’m going to need some serious enabling for my sticking-my-head-in-the-sand activities, and you’re the one who’s going to give it to me,” I stated to my mom as a matter of fact rather than something for consideration.

 

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