Page 96 of Pin My Alpha

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“I’m thirty-five.”

“Exactly. You’re too young to be this grim.”

“I’ll put that on a T-shirt.”

“Put it on the damn menu. ‘Byrne’s: Good whiskey, decent burgers, and an emotionally constipated owner.’”

Tessa snorts. “I’d buy one.”

“Traitor,” I mutter.

“You’re bad at being pitiful, boss.”

“I’m not being pitiful.”

Ruth raises a brow. I glance toward the door before I can stop myself.

She sees it. Of course she does.

“There it is,” she says quietly. “The kid.”

I don’t answer.

“You’re waiting for him.”

“I’m not.”

“Declan.” The way she says my name isn’t loud. It doesn’t have to be.

My hands flatten on the bar top. “I don’t deserve for him to come back,” I say, the words low and raw.

Ruth’s expression doesn’t change. “That wasn’t what I asked.”

“But it’s true.”

“Probably.”

I let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Thanks.”

“You want me to lie? I’m too old for that kind of emotional labor.”

The door opens again.

I look. A woman in a Ridgemont hoodie. Not Shay.

The bond keeps reaching, a low, restless ache under my skin.

Ruth watches the whole thing.

“I made a mess,” I say, forcing myself to look back at her.

“You did.”

“I hurt him.”

“Looks that way.”

“I tried to fix it and made it worse.”

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