Page 70 of My Grumpy Alpha

I refuse to call Gabe because his advice is the worst, and all he does is give me shit.

Maybe M? My new therapist? Marvin? I don’t know. So I sit there and watch her roast her marshmallow and grin like she’s never done it before.

Maybe she hasn’t? I’m almost afraid to ask because she seems to get angry when things get personal.

"So…” I try anyway.

“Have you ever done this?”

Her face falls. What is this cracking in my chest feeling? What is this need to make it better?

“Not that I know of. Though I do remember one time being in the woods when I was young, I was playing tag, I ran, got chased, fell and scraped my knee, but that’s about it.”

I frown, that’s pretty descriptive for not knowing one’s own past. I remember the woods. I loved them. I loved the rain.

“How old were you?”

She shrugs like her memories don’t matter.

“No idea.”

I nod and tuck it away. What woods? Where? So many questions I should not even be asking an employee I have a full moon sex contract with.

Wow, when I say it that way in my head, it’s so much worse.

I grab my own marshmallow to distract myself and put it on the roaster, then show her how to do it right.

“You have to turn it just above the flame, let it heat and son of a bitch!” My marshmallow catches on a raging fire immediately. I panic. She rolls her eyes, grabs the stick, and then shoves it back into the fire.

“Oh.”

"You can’t just fling raging mallows!”

I smirk.

“Should we make a t-shirt for Gabe that says that?”

She bursts out laughing.

“The sad part is I think he would actually wear it and probably on casual Friday.”

“We have casual Friday?” I ask.

She gives me a teasing shove.

“Maybe if you weren’t so grumpy, you’d know that about your own company.”

I pout.

“I’m not grumpy, I’m focused.”

"Mmm, well at least during sex you’re focused.”

I do a double take.

“You really think so?”

She leans in and licks her fingers.