A Is for Alpha Male

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A Is for Alpha Male Page 12

by Laurel Curtis


  “No way, babe. I am definitely not your daddy.” He paused for a beat, a thought occurring to him. “Unless, of course, you’re into kink,” he finished.

  “Danny!”

  “You mean Daddy, baby?” he asked sensuously, making use of the similarity of his name.

  “I will cut you,” I snapped amicably.

  “Right,” he responded, and I could hear the upturn of his lips. “Hales, seriously, be careful. And call me when you get back in tonight,” he said, his voice turning completely serious. It was like he flipped a switch.

  “Jesus, Danny!”

  “Haley. Do your friend a fucking favor, give him some piece of mind, and fucking call him when you get in tonight. I want to know that both of you are safe. Dial my number, say, “I’m home, Asshole,” if you want, and then hang up. I could care less. As long as I know you make it back in one cute, little piece.”

  “God, Dan-o. You make it seriously hard to be a snarky bitch when you act so nice. You are totally cramping my style,” I grumbled and then heard Allison laughing in the background. “Bee tee dubs, why was part of that in the third person?”

  Danny laughed too, no doubt noticing that just after I had accused him of taking away my snarkiness, I snarked him about speaking in the third person. “Nothing can keep the snarky bitch caged, baby,” he reassured me. “And I’d miss her if she was gone.”

  A smile puffed out my cheeks as I told him, “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I’m with my mother.” Allison frowned at my reference, but I waved her off.

  At the same time, Danny scoffed loudly in my ear. “Hales, your mom is almost as crazy as you are. So I have to tell you that your seemingly comforting statement brings me no comfort whatsoever.”

  Well, I couldn’t really argue with that.

  “Fine. Stop talking to me so I can cover up my nakedness,” I teased him, choosing my words purposefully.

  I heard him groan again, but I gave him no time to speak. Instead, in the most seductive purr I could manage I said, “I’ll call you when I get in tonight, Daddy.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up, tossing my phone on the bed and cackling the whole time.

  Allison rose one brow, no doubt scared by my fatherly endearment, but I waved her off and told her, “I was just messing with him.”

  Actually, that was a perfect example of why it wasn’t good when other people listened in on telephone conversations. No matter what you were saying, the eavesdropper only got half the story, and the half they got was almost always out of context.

  “Too fun,” I mumbled to myself as my laughter died down and Allison shook her head.

  When I made no moves toward my bag, but instead, stayed there, smiling stupidly at my phone, Allison decided she needed to snap me out of it.

  The bright blue pillow didn’t hurt when it hit my head, but it did get my attention.

  “Hey!” I shouted, playing the victim with everything I had, my hand clutched to my head like she had hit me with a brick rather than a pillow.

  “Seriously?” she questioned, her one scary eyebrow raised. “Get ready, Haley!”

  I got up and headed for my bag, but I did it muttering to myself. “Geez, you’re violent tonight. Danny was worried about my safety with men, but he really should have been concerned about my savage mother.”

  Allison just sighed and asked, “We better stop somewhere and have a real meal before we go out to do other things, huh?”

  Come to think of it, I was hungry. No wonder I was so punchy. “Yeah, probably a good idea,” I confirmed.

  “Sorry,” I apologized.

  My mom smiled, walked over to me, and cupped my cheek. “Haley, one thing I can guarantee is that I’m used to you. No need to apologize. Just get ready.”

  Man, people who loved you put up with the most shit. Well, at least, the people who loved me did.

  That was the nature of relationships though. Relationships establish, or are sometimes bred from, familiarity. Familiarity leads to comfort. And comfort allows for your most natural, uninhibited behavior. Fortunately, unrestricted interactions make people flourish, and in the right circumstances, that only enhances love.

  I was so lucky. For me and my mom, and for me and Hunter, the crazy was like Crazy Glue, bonding our relationships that much further and enhancing our love exponentially.

  But I was a glutton.

  I wanted more.

  I wanted another level; that warm and fuzzy bond combined with a big, strong man who was good at touching me in my special places.

  HOLY. SHIT.

  Allison was smashed. I mean completely wasted.

  We had made our way out onto the streets of Denver, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and had found ourselves at Brother’s bar, hanging out and enjoying the summer air on the patio.

  Allison had started drinking—and hadn’t stopped.

  Her southern accent was thicker, her hair flips were more exaggerated, and her smile was lazy and slightly lopsided.

  I had my arm around her waist, holding a fairly substantial amount of her weight, and her arm was draped across my shoulders, her hand smashing my face rather ungently in order to pull my head closer to her’s.

  She had seemed slightly preoccupied earlier today, but nothing that would have suggested she was going to get this sloppy. Honestly, I had never seen her like this.

  The funny thing was, she may have been sloppy drunk, but that was the end of things to which that word applied. She was still gorgeous, friendly (maybe a little too friendly, but friendly nonetheless), and she seemed to be having the time of her life.

  There was a semi-circle of about eight men around us, half of which were probably there for the amusement they thought would come to pass, the other half seemingly actually interested in one or both of us.

  One specific guy had caught my attention, and I was throwing glances in his direction in between monitoring Allison’s interactions and behavior. Her safety was more important than some random guy.

  Chicks before dicks.

  Hos before Bros.

  Moms before Doms.

  You get the picture.

  As I stood there in my mom’s embrace, Mr. Nice Jeans, fitted t-shirt, and motorcycle boots, sidled his way over to me and spoke in a muted voice. “She gonna be okay?” he asked, gesturing discreetly toward Allison with the glass neck of the beer bottle between his fingers.

  “Yeah. I swear she’s never like this. I’m pretty sure she’s consumed more alcohol tonight than she has in her entire life.”

  I watched his tan throat work as a rough chuckle accompanied his small smile.

  “It’s Haley, right? And this is your mom, Allison?” he queried.

  Nodding my affirmation, I asked, “Yep. What’s your name?”

  Reaching out, he tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear and answered, “Jason.”

  I wasn’t really sure whether I thought his touchiness was sweet or creepy, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt by leaning toward sweet.

  I needed to give him at least five minutes of judgment free time. After that time was up, I could pick him apart like the ruthless vulture I was.

  He reached out and grabbed my hip in a pretty proprietary way, held my eyes, and declared, “You and I should go out tomorrow, have dinner.”

  Geez, okay. He wanted to go on a date. That was really effing fast. I just found out his name for Pete’s sake.

  Time to assess.

  Well, he was cute for sure. Dark blond hair, bright blue eyes, a nice straight smile, and his apparel screamed, “Man!” He seemed to have all of the qualities of the list that you could gauge on a first meeting basis.

  Seemingly Alpha if his quick, no nonsense approach was anything to go by.

  Jason was a decent name. Cute. Crisp. Manly.

  Definitely had a hard body. Tight, broad chest, and trim abdominals. His t-shirt wasn’t quite tight enough to see if there were defined ridges under there.

/>   Intelligent enough to speak coherently, cohesively, and understand me.

  Manly.

  He was protective enough that he asked about Allison’s state of being. A good start.

  Sexy, definitely. Though I usually went for the dark headed fellas.

  No visible tattoos, but that meant next to nothing. There were all kinds of body parts covered by clothing at the moment.

  So far he found us amusing, so that was good for U.

  And well, he was certainly zealous about getting a date secured right away.

  Everything else, I would have to spend more time with him to know.

  I had done my assessment rather quickly and efficiently. Danny would be proud of my thoroughness.

  This was all good, but judging by Allison’s current state, I wasn’t all fired up to leave her to her own devices tomorrow night. And if I was honest, I was also a little shaky about the prospect of a date because of Danny. I felt an unsubstantiated obligation to him.

  Stupid fucking Danny.

  Plus, for some reason, Jason’s hand on my hip didn’t heat my skin. I didn’t feel the electricity through the fabric of my shorts. In fact, it didn’t seem comfortable at all, but maybe I just needed the chance to get to know him and get more comfortable.

  Feeling the pressure of Allison’s hand on my face again, my thoughts shifted back to her.

  My eyes apparently flickered to the subject of my thoughts, either that or Blondy was a mind reader, because he hurried to add on, “My dad is single too. He would no doubt love to take your mom out, that way she’s not on her own, and you never know, they may hit it off.”

  Christ. Another familial set up. My uncle. My dad. I hoped this one didn’t look like Tim McGraw.

  “He doesn’t look like Tim McGraw, does he? If so, we may need to have EMTs standing by.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion, as it would, since I sounded like a crazy person if you didn’t know the story. “No worries, it’s just an inside joke.”

  Quickly schooling his features back into the shape of a smile, Jason moved on.

  Probably a smart move on his part.

  “So what do you say? Put me out of my misery and go out with me?” he asked, a charming smile in place on his cute face that I couldn’t deny.

  “Okay, sure,” I hesitantly agreed, hastily adding, “As long as your Dad is on board,” as an afterthought.

  “Yeah, he’ll definitely be on board.” I watched his eyes devour my mom as he spoke, and I had to do a quick reality check. My mom was hot, so even if he was around my age, it wasn’t abnormal for him to be attracted to Allison. But something about it was weird; I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

  God, I had to get a handle on things. My talk with Danny had made me paranoid. It was good to be cautious, but not every guy was a sexual predator.

  At least not the bad kind.

  And Jason seemed nice.

  Most importantly, he seemed interested in me. Maybe my ego needed a little stroking after Danny’s rejection. I was confident, but I still loved a good stroking.

  Pun one hundred percent abso-fucking-lutely intended.

  I chuckled to myself and looked up just in time to see the doubt flash in Jason’s eyes. Right. I better stop acting crazy or he was going to be the one backing out.

  “You kind of look like a blue-eyed Zack Morris,” I blurted out as I perused the features of his face.

  “Zack Morris?” he asked, confusion coating his every facet.

  “You know, Saved by the Bell.”

  Nothing. No recognition whatsoever. His face was absolutely blank. This was totally weird; Zack Morris was never blank.

  “He dated Kelly Kapowski,” I kept explaining. “Best friends with Samuel “Screech” Powers.”

  Still nothing. No flash of understanding. No subtle nod suffused with found knowledge. No flashy pointer finger guns combined with a, “I get it!”

  Okay, time to move on from Saved by the Bell because he was not effing getting it, and I was starting to get frustrated.

  I mean, who didn’t know Saved by the Bell?

  I had to grit my teeth in order to push through the frustration, but somehow, I managed it.

  “Nowhere on the list did it mention knowing early nineties pop culture as a requirement,” I muttered practically mutedly to myself. “He’s cute, Haley. Get over it,” I told myself at the same silent volume.

  I looked up to find his bright blue eyes still locked on me, and that was all it took to let the ridiculous obsession with Saved by the Bell go. Throwing him a saucy smile, I flirted, “It doesn’t matter. Just know that he was a major teenage heart throb, and you look a lot like him.”

  Well, he obviously understood that if his answering smile was anything to go by. He shifted his body weight even closer, seeming like he was going to get even touchier, but froze, a reaction to the chime of his phone. After pulling it out of his pocket, he flashed me another smile and then murmured, “I’ve got to go, but I’m looking forward to tomorrow night. Let me grab your phone number, and I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning to set it up.”

  Figuring that was a good plan since it gave me time to mull it over and back out if I needed to, I gave him my number, and then entered his into my phone under “Zack “Jason” Morris” so that I would know it was him when he called. No need to open myself up to surprises.

  We said our goodbyes, goodbyes that were very touchy on his end, with a hand on upper rib slash lower boob graze and a lingering kiss on the cheek. I didn’t make a big deal about the boob graze because it seemed genuinely accidental. Not to mention, I had bigger fish to fry, as Boozy Susie was hanging practically all of her weight on me, seemingly adding a pound for every minute we stood there.

  It was time to go back to the hotel and to do it via taxi. Walking the half of a mile or so that it was back to the Hotel Monaco with her weight slung over my shoulder like I was on a European backpacking trip was not my idea of a good time.

  I preferred the hotels that carried my bags for me and kept me supplied in chocolate, whether it was the on my pillow variety or stashed in a minibar. Or even down the hall in a vending machine. Whatever.

  Putting my arm around her upper back and bracing hers around my shoulders, I picked up on her weight and gave her side a squeeze to get her attention.

  When her glazed, though still luminous, turquoise eyes met mine I smiled big and got one of equal strength in return.

  “Hey, Alli girl, I think it’s time to go back to the room, pour some water and ibuprofen down your throat, and hit the hay. Sound good?”

  She nodded, her smile slightly wobbly, and a wet sheen coated those same pretty orbs. Her palm cupped my cheek, and she whispered, “Love you, baby girl. Sorry about this.”

  I assumed she was apologizing for being completely schnockered, but I didn’t care. Allison had lived a life of meeting everyone else’s standards, trapped under the thumb of an overprotective father, and then forced into a little, oppressive box by every man that came after my father.

  It was about damn time that she let loose.

  “Ain’t no skin off my nose, Mamajamma. As long you don’t give me a vomit bath, I can handle anything you throw at me.”

  Startled eyes jumped up to mine, her free hand shot to her mouth, and she carefully whispered, “Don’t say vomit.”

  Um. Eek!

  “Noted,” I agreed easily. I did not want to clean up puke. It would turn into a game of vomit leapfrog, since I was what you might call a “sympathy puker”. Once she threw up, I would throw up, and then we’d be lost in an endless circle.

  Easing her away from the group of disappointed men (and they were disappointed if their grumbles and sourpuss faces were any indication) I made my way to the door and out just as a taxi was pulling up with a group of scantily clad women who appeared to be on a bachelorette party bar crawl.

  Either that or they had a thing for veils and sashes, and specialized in miniature penis paraphernalia.
/>   Truthfully, that sounded like an insanely fun job to have. Just imagine the weekly Wednesday morning conference at Small Plastic Penis Paraphernalia Enterprises.

  “Well, Bob. I think we have to go with the miniature penis belt. That’s definitely going to be the go-to accessory this year,” Sue said firmly.

  Nodding his agreement, Bob expanded on the validity of her hypothesis. “You’re right, Sue. I’ve seen them all over the runways this season.”

  Or something similar to that. I couldn’t tell you for sure. I wasn’t actually an employee of Small Plastic Penis Paraphernalia Enterprises.

  “Excuse me?” the cab driver said, trying to get my attention and breaking me out of my reverie. The lines of his face were strained, and I was guessing they matched his patience.

  Quickly moving the Siamese twin setup I had going with Allison over to the backdoor of the cab, I opened it and then helped my mom in much like a police officer would help load a prisoner.

  “Watch your head, Mamalicious.”

  Once inside, Allison crawled her way across the seat to make room for me. Thankfully, she had on shorts, so we didn’t have a full on vagina flashing, young Hollywood moment.

  When I finally settled in my seat and adjusted so that the skin of my legs wasn’t sticking uncomfortably to the leather seat, I told the driver where we wanted to go and smiled at him in the rear view mirror to make up for my previous delays.

  When he flashed a salacious grin in return, all I could do was roll my eyes heavenward and pray for the manless safety of our hotel room.

  Resting my head on the seat and closing my eyes, I didn’t expect to be forced to open them right away by the sound of Allison’s raucous laughter.

  Smiling at her in the seat next to me, I asked, “What’s so funny?”

  She tried to speak around her chortles, her statement coming out in choppy one or two word bursts. “I didn’t...get it...at...first. I...just...got it.”

  “What did you get?” I asked, truly curious.

  She broke out into a fresh round of laughter, and at the sound of it, my face felt like it would split open from the width of my smile.

 

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