Page 94 of Pin My Alpha
“Then you go find out,” he says. “That’s the part nobody can do for you.”
Declan
The front door opens, and my whole body turns toward it before my brain can stop it.
Not Shay.
Just a couple of grad students, laughing too loud. Relief hits first—a nasty, cowardly little pang. Then disappointment slams in right behind it, heavy and thick.
“Table or bar?” Tessa asks from the beer taps.
“Bar,” one of them says, shaking rain from his hood. They take stools at the far end, and Tessa gives me a look while she grabs menus. A look that says, We’re talking later.
I pretend I don’t see it. It’s a skill, owning a bar. Knowing who wants to talk and who needs their drink set down without a word. Who needs a double instead of their usual.
Apparently, I’m also great at pretending I’m not waiting for one specific omega to walk through that door.
The bar’s quiet for a weeknight. The air smells like fried onions, lemon cleaner, old wood. It smells like Byrne’s. It smells like mine.
But it’s wrong without him. It’s missing sandalwood and dark chocolate.
I pick up a glass and start polishing. It’s already clean. The green bar towel is folded under the counter where no one can see it. I brought it down from the apartment earlier. Leaving it in the nest felt wrong. I told myself I’d use it for work.
I haven’t touched it.
The door opens again.
My head snaps up.
A couple of townies. Not Shay.
That stupid lurch in my gut. He doesn’t owe me a visit. He doesn’t owe me a damn thing. I grip the glass tighter.
Tessa glances over. “You’re gonna rub a hole through that.”
“It’s a slow night.”
“Mm-hm.”
She plants her palms on the bar. “Did you eat today?”
“Yeah.”
“Liar.”
“I had eggs,” I say.
“This morning?”
I keep polishing. She stares at me for another second, then pushes off with a muttered, “You’re impossible,” and goes to drop off drinks. She’s been here three years. She knows when to leave me alone. She also knows I’m one bad decision away from being sat down with a basket of fries like a problem child.
The front door opens.
My body betrays me again.
Not Shay.
A guy in a suit walks in, looks around like he regrets every choice that led him here, and heads for the bathroom. I almost laugh.
