Page 16 of Pin My Alpha
“Is that—”
“Diego,” Tessa says, a clear warning in her voice.
“Sorry, I just—” He rubs a hand over his jaw, looking between the letter and my arm. “Okay, so the landlord’s trying to kill the bar, and you bit Shay. Boss, what the hell is happening?”
A rough, ugly sound escapes my throat. It might be a laugh.
Tessa just pinches the bridge of her nose.
Diego seems to take the lack of yelling as an invitation to continue. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” he adds quickly. “The biting. Good for you. It’s about time. We all figured you were weird about him.”
“We did not,” I say, the words flat and dead.
Tessa slowly turns her head to look at me.
Diego just blinks. “We did, though. My cousin who does dishes asked me about it last week.”
“Your cousin needs to focus on the pre-rinse cycle,” Tessa says.
I look away from both of them, toward the big front windows. The neon Byrne’s sign is dark. Outside, the morning is moving on. A delivery truck rumbles past. A couple of students walk by, heads bent over their phones. Normal.
He could be out there. Walking to class, trying to figure out how to cover the mark on his neck. Trying to forget he spent thenight with an alpha who lost control. The thought is a physical weight in my chest.
“I didn’t mean to,” I hear myself say.
The bar goes quiet. Even the coolers seem to stop humming.
Tessa sets her mug down with a soft click. “Declan.”
“He told me one night,” I say, the words rough in my throat. “I agreed. Then I went and bit him.”
Diego makes a small, aborted sound. Tessa shoots him a look that could strip paint, and he goes silent.
“So he ran,” I finish, staring at the scarred wood of the bar.
Her expression shifts into something that looks too much like pity, and I have to look away. I’d rather she yell at me.
“Did you hurt him?” she asks.
“No.” The word is sharp, defensive. Then the anger drains out, leaving me hollow. “He wanted it. All of it. But the bite… that wasn’t the plan.”
“What was the plan, then?” Tessa’s voice is quiet, but it cuts right through me. “The one where you pour every piece of yourself into this bar so you never have to risk a goddamn thing? The one where you work yourself to death so you can’t be disappointed when it’s all you have?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” She leans forward, her hands flat on the bar. “You built this place to be safe. Well, the world came for it anyway. And now this kid walks in here, someone you actually want, and you’re acting like he’s just one more thing you’re about to lose.”
Diego shifts his weight. “She’s not wrong, boss.”
“Don’t use him as an excuse,” Tessa says, her eyes locked on mine. “Don’t you dare act like this is the universe punishing you for finally looking up from the damn receipts.”
My jaw aches. She says it so simply, like she’s telling me we’re out of lemons, and it hits with the force of a physical blow because it’s true.
“I don’t know how to fix it,” I admit. “Any of it.”
“You start with the problem that’s right in front of you.”
As if on cue, the front door opens.
