Page 14 of My Unhinged Alphas
As we pull away from the curb, I casually unlock my phone in my lap and text Jess.
Me:Full name Ethan Caldwell. Dark car. Harbor. If I disappear, avenge me.
Three dots appear immediately.
Jess:Already looking him up. Don’t get murdered.
I suppress a smile.
When I look up, Ethan is watching me. Not in a jealous way. Just… watching.
“Checking in?” he asks smoothly.
“Safety protocol,” I reply. “My friends have trust issues.”
“Good,” he says. “They should.”
That answer sits with me strangely.
The drive is quiet but not uncomfortable. The city lights thin as we head closer to the water. Streetlamps reflect off black waves. The harbor smells faintly of salt and diesel.
The restaurant appears at the end of a short pier. Warm lights glowing through tall windows. White tablecloths visible even from outside.
“Wow,” I murmur. I might be a little underdressed.
He parks and steps out to open my door.
The air is cooler here. The sound of water against wood is steady and rhythmic.
“This is… fancy,” I say carefully.
“You deserve something nice,” he replies.
Inside, the place is dimly lit and intimate. Candlelight flickers on polished wood. Soft music hums in the background. There’s almost no crowd. A couple near the window. An older man at the bar. That’s it. For a Saturday night, it feels… sparse.
“Is it always this quiet?” I ask.
“Exclusive,” he says easily.
Of course it is.
The host greets him by name.
We’re seated at a table overlooking the water. The harbor lights ripple across the surface like liquid gold. It’s romantic. Objectively. And yet?—
There’s a tightness under my ribs. Not fear exactly. Just… awareness.
He orders without looking at the prices. Wine that I absolutely cannot pronounce. An appetizer that sounds like it requires a trust fund to appreciate.
“Get whatever you want,” he says when I hesitate over the menu.
“I don’t need lobster to survive,” I reply lightly.
He smiles. “Tonight you don’t have to survive.”
The sentence is charming. And strange.
I laugh it off. Maybe he’s just dramatic. Maybe I’m just paranoid.
