Page 1 of Pin My Alpha

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Shay

“He didn’t stand you up,” Jude insists, leaning so far across the booth that Rhys has to hook two fingers in the collar of his shirt. “He had an emergency. His appendix exploded. He got attacked by bees.”

Benji stares at him, unimpressed. “Bees.”

“They could be aggressive bees,” Jude says. “He could be allergic.”

“Okay, first, rude,” I cut in. “Second, my date could be allergic to what, exactly? Showing up?”

“I’m just saying we don’t know the circumstances.”

“We know one circumstance,” Benji says. “He didn’t show.”

“Maybe his phone died,” Soren offers, his voice soft.

“His phone died,” Benji says, deadpan. “And then he was tragically mauled by a bear. That’s the only story I’ll accept.”

Jude opens his mouth, probably to invent a third emergency, and I hold up a hand. “I’m not calling him anything. Not a dickhead, not a flake, not a tragic victim of aggressive bees. He doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a very mature response,” Milo says.

I stare at him.

“It’s also a little concerning,” he adds. “For you, I mean.”

“It’s fine,” I say.

The table goes quiet. God, I hate that. That sudden, careful silence.

“I mean it.” I take a sip of my club soda. Even the lime tastes judgmental. “It was KnotMe. An app famous for its reliability. It’s why every great love story starts with someone really respecting a seven-thirty reservation at a sports bar.”

Jude’s face does that thing—the soft, earnest crinkle that comes right before the pity.

“Shay—”

“Don’t.”

“I was just going to say he’s a dick.”

“No, you weren’t. You were going to tell me I deserve better.”

He has the decency to look caught. “Well, you do.”

“That’s worse.”

“How is that worse?”

“Because then I have to sit here while you all look at me like I’m roadkill.”

“We’re not looking at you like that,” Milo says gently.

Benji raises a hand. “I am. A little. But only because you’re doing that thing where you pretend it doesn’t bother you, and your left eyebrow is twitching.”

I feel it jump. Shit.

I fold my arms, my jaw tight, and turn toward the bar.

Bad choice.