Page 34 of Pin My Alpha
“Just stand next to him. Look like you’re on the same team.”
“I’m not posing for some fake couple photo.”
The room goes quiet. The kind of quiet where you can suddenly hear the hum of the beer fridge. Shay’s scent turns sharp, the dark chocolate note going bitter.
I keep my voice steady. “You don’t have to.”
His eyes find mine, and for a second, I want to tell everyone to get out. But he doesn’t need rescuing. He needs me not to make this a thing.
Jude lowers his phone, his expression suddenly serious. “Okay. Sorry. My bad.”
Shay’s jaw works. He looks back down at the laptop, then shuts it with a soft click. “It’s fine. Let’s just get it over with.”
There it is. The wall, going up clean and fast.
I move before I think, coming around the bar to stand beside him. I don’t touch him. I leave three solid inches of air between my arm and his, enough space that he can’t feel trapped.
It doesn’t matter. I can feel the heat coming off his skin anyway. My own scent, cedar and whiskey, is clinging to theHenley he’s wearing, and the mix of it with his sandalwood hits me hard. My fingers twitch. All I want is to close that gap, slide my hand to the small of his back, and hold him in place. Just hold him.
I stand there, fighting the simple, animal urge to erase the distance between us.
The flash goes off.
“Okay, that’s actually good,” Jude says, looking at his phone. “Declan, you look like you own the place.”
“It’s my name on the door.”
“Yeah, but now it looks like you’re not miserable about it.” Benji leans over Jude’s shoulder. “Shay looks like he’s about to kill someone.”
“He looks like he’s in charge,” I say.
Shay’s head turns. He just looks at me, his own expression unreadable. I don’t take it back. A flicker of something I can’t name crosses his face before he looks away.
“Right,” he says, his voice a little rough. “Competent is fine.”
Rhys closes the folder he’s been reading at a high-top. “So, I have some thoughts on the lease renewal.”
Shay is moving before he finishes the sentence, all that nervous energy finding a target. He pulls a stool up to Rhys’s table. “Tell me.”
“The proposed rent increase is steep, but the language around the renewal terms is the real problem. There’s a clause here that gives the landlord way too much latitude to amend the contract after you’ve signed.”
A familiar, cold weight settles in my gut. I’ve read those words a dozen times, but hearing them said out loud in my own bar makes the threat feel solid.
Shay leans in, his shoulder almost brushing Rhys’s. “Can they do that?”
“They can write it down,” Rhys says. “Doesn’t mean you agree to it. You need a counteroffer. And you should have a lawyer who specializes in this stuff review it before you sign.”
“I’ll find someone,” Shay says, all business.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say. The words are out before I can stop them.
He turns on the stool, and his eyes are already shielded. “It’s marketing. A business that closes isn’t a good look for the campaign.”
It’s a clean dismissal. Back off.
I just nod. “Okay.”
His fingers tighten on the edge of the folder.
