Happily Ever Alpha: Until Nox (Kindle Worlds) (Hyde Series Book 3)

by Layla Frost

  I glanced toward the workers before turning away. “It’s Massachusetts. I think the term ‘Masshole’ is an endearment. But that doesn’t matter. I don’t want them ruining—”

  “Nah, lass, they’re supposed to be there.”

  My shoulders dropped. “Oh. Good then. I, uhh, sorry to bother you.”

  “No bother.”

  “I have to take Nolan out. Can I do that with them here?”

  “Aye.”

  There was a lot I found appealing about Killian Nox, and despite my efforts to ignore all those many things, I couldn’t ignore his voice. The accent. The low, gruff tone. The way it sounded intimate in my ear, which allowed my imagination to run wild.

  I’d already jumped from the pan across the hall. I had no business leaping lust first into the fire.

  “I’ll…” My words trailed off as I turned around and saw what some of the men were unboxing. Jaw dropping, I murmured, “It’s a TV.”

  Holy shit, is this because I gave him a hard time about not having one?

  I’m an asshole.

  When I saw all they were doing, though, I figured he’d already been planning the installation. For all I knew, he was new to the building and was still getting settled. Not that I’d been to Blake’s more than a handful of times, but I’d never seen Killian.

  And he wasn’t the type of man to go unnoticed.

  There was a smile in his voice when he said, “Aye, it’s a TV. Didn’t want you to think I was a savage.”

  Taking it for the joke it was, I grinned at his playful tease.

  Muffled voices were in the background before Killian said something I couldn’t make out. The harshness in his tone let me guess it wasn’t good. “I’ve got to go, lass.”

  “Right, sorry.”

  “Call anytime,” he emphasized before hanging up.

  Putting my cell away, I pulled on my sneakers and grabbed Nolan’s leash.

  He trotted over to sit by my feet, his fluffy ears flopping to the side as he regally arched his neck so I could reach his collar.

  “You really are a good boy,” I whispered with a quick head pat.

  His tongue lolled as his tail wagged.

  “Let’s go.”

  I took him for a quick walk up and down the street. Anytime another passerby approached, he stopped his sniffing and came to stand near me. He didn’t bark, just stood as a guard until they passed.

  When he finished his business, we took the elevator back up.

  Blake must’ve been watching because no sooner had we stepped off did he throw open his door. “You’re really staying there?”

  You didn’t really leave me much choice, dickhole.

  I bit back my agitation. “Yes. Now excuse me, I have to go.”

  “Augusta, you’re being ridiculous. It was a one-time, last-hurrah kind of thing. Be happy I did it before we got married, unlike most guys.”

  Lip curling in disgust, I shook my head. “If you think most guys are cheating pigs, you’re wrong. You just hang out with assholes. Being barely better than them isn’t an accomplishment.”

  “What?” He pointed at Killian’s door. “Like that thug is any better? He’s constantly gone for weeks at a time. You think he isn’t fucking everything that moves?”

  His words hit my stomach like a blow, making my muscles clench. Jealousy reared its ugly head, taking me by surprise.

  I barely knew Killian, let alone had any claim to him. My jealousy was ridiculous, and I hoped I masked it well.

  “I’m staying at his place while he’s gone,” I said. “Whatever he does is his own business.”

  “You mean whoever.”

  “That, too.”

  “You’re being overdramatic. Relax. She wasn’t even good,” he tried, like that justification made things any better. He took a step toward me, but Nolan went on alert.

  Unlike with the people outside, he began growling at Blake’s approach.

  “Whoa there,” Blake said, stepping back.

  Even with the retreat, Nolan showed his sharp teeth.

  Blake closed the door a little. “What’s his problem?”

  “He doesn’t like you. And neither do I.”

  With that, Nolan and I went back into the apartment. As soon as the door closed behind us, Nolan was a different dog, back to his sweet and calm self. His tail went mad at my praise. When I gave him two treats for his good work, I thought his butt wagging was going to propel him in circles.

  I looked toward the men working and smiled again at my quick conversation with Killian. But my smile faltered as Blake’s words echoed through my head, unwelcome and mood-dampening—much like the man himself.

  As much as I hated to admit it, he was probably right. While I’d spent the night drunk in his tub, Killian had likely been in the arms of an Irish beauty.

  Which was fine.

  Good for him.

  Good. For. Fucking. Him.

  And bless his damned heart, too.

  Shaking my head, I looked toward the massive coffee maker and cringed.

  Meema would bust out the slatted wooden spoon with less wind resistance if she could see me now.

  “Would anyone like any coffee?” I asked loudly. At the smattering of affirmatives, I started a pot of the fancy blend Killian had on hand. I opened cabinets but could only find a few mugs.

  Rushing into the bedroom, I tore through my boxes. The third one held what I was looking for, and I dragged it into the kitchen. Literally. After pulling out the needed number, I washed them quickly.

  Just as the coffee finished brewing, I dried the last mug and lined them—along with sugar, creamer, and milk—on the counter.

  Because I wasn’t a fool, I poured my own before calling, “Coffee’s ready.”

  A few of the guys balked at my selection of mugs before relenting. Others got a kick out of the humorous designs.

  However, the asshole guy looked from the mugs to me then back before turning away without a cup.

  Yeah, way to punish me. I’m really wounded that you’re missing out on the best coffee I’ve ever had, and I’ll be forced to drink your portion.

  You sure showed me.

  “Looking forward to the faster internet?” one of the guys asked as he stirred his coffee.

  My brows lowered. “What?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, what you have now is good. But these new fiber-optic cables?” He gave a low whistle. “Your boyfriend said you’re a student who needs the fastest connection. You won’t believe the difference.”

  I opened my mouth to correct his assumption but closed it. It didn’t matter and would be awkward. I also didn’t bother to tell him I likely wouldn’t know the difference in whatever fancy thing he was talking about. Compared to the shotty signal I’d had at my old place—one that’d required us to sit at the window with the modem and router—Killian’s existing internet had been like a dream. I doubted anything could be faster.

  “Can’t wait,” I lied.

  It wasn’t long before there was a new WiFi connection, a gorgeous TV on the wall, and a fancy sound system installed. There’d been one guy who’d been helping the others but hadn’t done as much, so I’d assumed he was new.

  However, as the rest of the men began cleaning and packing up, he burst into superspeed. He held multiple remotes in his hands as he moved around, testing and changing things. As he worked, the other guys left, offering goodbyes as they went.

  Except the asshole. He stormed out.

  After about forty minutes, the remote guy turned toward me and smiled. “Ready?”

  “Yup,” I said, expecting him to hand me one of the remotes.

  He pulled a pen and a bundle of tab sticky notes from his pocket.

  It’s a TV. I’m not an idiot. How hard could it be?

  He wrote and labeled as he spoke. “This controls the TV. Press here to bring up your streaming options. We’ve already downloaded the basics, but you’ll have to log in with your info. This one controls the cab
le. You have to be on HDMI one, which I’ve labeled on the TV remote. This one controls the audio system. Press this to turn on surround sound. This switches the sound to the speaker in the kitchen.” After lining the remotes up on the table, he handed me a preprinted paper. “These are the most common problems and troubleshooting steps. But if you have any questions, the service numbers are on the back.”

  It’s not a TV, it’s a NASA control panel. I’m an idiot. It can be very hard.

  “Uhh, thanks,” I said, shell-shocked and lost.

  He gave me a reassuring smile. “Pretty soon you won’t even need the labels.”

  Riiiiiight.

  Walking him to the door, I thanked him before heading to the living room.

  I had a ton of homework to do, on top of my desperate apartment hunt. But that didn’t stop me from sitting on the couch and grabbing the remotes.

  Nolan hopped up next to me, doing a few awkward circles before plopping down.

  “I really should check it all out,” I said to him. “What if there’s an issue that needs to be fixed? It’s really the thorough thing to do.”

  He snuffled in his sleep, which I took as an agreement.

  Turning on the gorgeous TV, I began flipping through the stations.

  I’ll just make sure everything works before scouring the apartment listings again. I don’t know why I’m freaking out. I bet I’ll find something within a day.

  I stopped on a Walking Dead rerun, taking it as a sign.

  As Negan would say, easy peasy lemon squeezy.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TWAT APPLES AND DEADLY SUBS

  KILLIAN

  “THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY, LAD?”

  “Lad?” The man in front of me laughed before spitting a mouthful of blood on the cement floor.

  “Now that’s just rude, that’s what that is,” Dair said from behind me. “We’ve already gotta clean yer brains off this floor. Don’t make our job worse.”

  The man ignored him, his narrowed eyes shooting the daggers his broken hands no longer could. “I’m no’ yer lad. Ye’re a lousy, mix-mutt American,” he sneered the word as an insult, “who wants to play like ye’re still part of the old country. Yer not. Ye never were, with yer whore of a ma and—”

  I pulled the trigger without a flinch.

  “Going after yer saint of a ma.” Dair spit on the dead body, cursing his soul to be unclean for all eternity.

  It didn’t matter.

  The man wasn’t going to heaven.

  “My ma’s a saint now?” I asked, unable to hide my amusement.

  Dair jerked his head toward me. “She put up with yer sorry ass, didn’t she?”

  “Fair point.”

  As we walked from the room, a few men entered to clean. By the time they left, there’d be no sign anyone had been there.

  “What’s the plan?” Dair asked after we got into his car.

  I pulled a phone from my pocket and dialed. “We’ll see.”

  “Hello?” a deep voice answered.

  “Ay, Uncle Conor.” I chose my words carefully since I never knew who he was around. “I talked to the help line about the package tracking. They couldn’t find hide nor hair of it.”

  “Sorry, lad. Wanted to phone but couldn’t find a second,” he said, letting me know that my cautiousness had been correct. He wasn’t alone. “I got word the merchandise was damaged. Money is still being settled, but nothing else is happening since they made right bags of the whole thing.”

  I bit out a curse.

  The merchandise was the son of the Minister of Finance. He was also a spoiled twat who spent his time partying while his father worked behind the scenes to clean up his messes.

  Since Ayden was thick—along with being a twat—he pissed a lot of people off.

  People who’d decided he needed to disappear.

  The twat apple didn’t fall far from the twat tree, and his father had tried to quietly handle it with his own team before reaching out.

  A move that’d likely cost his son his life.

  “You still got two weeks here,” Uncle Conor pointed out. “Hit the pubs, have a pint of the black stuff, and check out the talent. Long overdue vacation.”

  I had no interest in the talent. Especially not when I knew who’d been at my place for a week.

  She might not have been there waiting for me, but she was still there.

  Which meant I wanted to be, too.

  I clicked off with my uncle.

  “So?” Dair prompted. “What’s the plan?”

  Thinking again about the flah lass, I pictured her wild blond hair and sexy blue eyes as she’d looked up at me before I’d left.

  I grinned. “I’m going home.”

  GUS

  Negan lied.

  There was nothing easy peasy lemon squeezy about finding a new apartment. Not when I needed something in a specific price range, available right then, and not in a shitty neighborhood.

  I’d have had better luck finding Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster guarding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

  Sitting at a table out in the quad, I drummed my fingers as I refreshed the page before scrolling through the same listings.

  None were for one-bedroom apartments.

  Two were way out of my price range, even if I managed to find someone to live with me.

  Four sounded like the beginning of an Unsolved Mysteries episode. Straight up creepy.

  And that was it.

  I still had two weeks at Killian’s, but the planner in me had hoped to have something lined up before then. It wasn’t like I needed much space. I’d actually have been fine with a studio apartment.

  But the timing couldn’t have been worse.

  I switched to my Fraud notes, but before I could pretend to study, my phone began ringing.

  Killian.

  At his name across my screen, a sudden giddy feeling came over me.

  Why don’t you play Truth or Dare at a sleepover while you’re at it, Gus.

  Rolling my eyes, I forced myself to be cool as I answered. “Hello?”

  “Lass? It’s Killian.”

  “I know.” I cringed. “I programmed your number into my phone.” Double cringe with an added forehead smack. “Uhh, in case there were any emergencies with your place or Nolan.” I rushed on. “Not that I think there would be, of course. Everything is going fine, and Nolan is really happy. I mean, I’m sure he misses you, if that’s something dogs can feel, but he’s doing well, and—”

  “Gus?” Killian interrupted, a chuckle in his voice.

  “And I’ll delete your number when I move out,” I finished feebly.

  Ground? Open up and swallow me now. Please.

  “You’re fine,” he said, no longer sounding as amused at my expense. “I’m calling to let you know my trip was cut short. I’m at the airport.”

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  Shit, shit, fuck.

  Even Meema wouldn’t chide me for my language when it came to something as disastrous as my impending homelessness.

  Staying at a motel was an option, but it’d suck through my savings. I’d worked through high school and my first few years of college, saving nearly everything. Financial aid and scholarships covered a lot, but I’d known, with as extensive as my master’s program was, I wouldn’t be able to hold down a job and make the grades I needed.

  Rooming with Rosie and Marco was also an option, and a better one than the motel. Well, for me, at least. Invading on their newfound aloneness wasn’t optimal for them, I was sure.

  “You there, lass?” Killian asked when my internal freak-out had caused a lengthy—and awkward—silence.

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Good news about your work. Or maybe bad. I’m sorry, I’m not sure. But I can be gone by tomorrow afternoon, unless you need me out earlier?”

  Pretty please don’t need me out earlier.

  “Nah, you don’t have to leave. I’m only letting you know because I’m going to
stop by and grab some things.”

  Maybe he has a girlfriend he’s going to stay with.

  I dropped my head to the wooden table, landing a lot lighter than needed. With as stupid as I was being, I deserved a hard thunk or two.

  “Uhh, if you’re sure I’m not putting you out,” I said.

  “Aye, it’s fine.”

  Yup. Girlfriend. Or plural. Maybe he really is booty calling his way around the world.

  “I said you could stay for another two weeks,” he continued, “and I keep my word. I’ll leave a note with the hotel’s number on it, in case there are issues.” There was amusement in his tone as he added, “Or Nolan misses me.”

  Any time you’re ready, ground.

  Ignoring his teasing, I paid attention to the rest of what he’d said. “You’re going to stay in a hotel?”

  “Aye.”

  “That’s not fair for you to pay for a hotel just because you were nice enough to let me stay.”

  “I’d been anticipating two more weeks of it anyway. And with my work, I’ll likely have to leave again. It’s no trouble.”

  “Why don’t you stay in your apartment, too?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I no longer wanted to wait for the ground to swallow me.

  I wanted to start digging the hole and get it over with.

  Not that I was worried or nervous about staying with him. I’d lived with roommates before.

  Okay, I’d lived with one roommate, and she was a she, not a beast of a man.

  But until they’d moved out, Marco had stayed with Rosie and me most nights. He preferred it because our apartment was quiet and smelled like girl, unlike his loud, boy-smelling one he’d shared with two other guys.

  It’d been fine, and I was willing to bet living with Killian would be the same. We’d likely never even see each other.

  I’d have to start sleeping on the couch, something I hadn’t been able to force myself to do when the lush bed was an option. But even that wasn’t an issue.

  My biggest concern was with my southern reinforced need to be a good house guest. I’d already failed by not being able to properly replace the wine I’d drank. I’d looked everywhere for the specific brand but hadn’t been able to find it. I wasn’t sure how long a flight from Ireland took, but if he was at the airport then, I likely only had half a day or so. I’d have to settle for replacing it with the same type, even if it was a different brand.