Chapter 23 23
Sheila’s eyes went wide, and a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. “Dinner? With the mysterious, allegedly hot Alpha? Whoa.” She let out a low whistle.
“Hot Alpha? Seriously?” I snatched the nearest pillow from my bed and swatted her with it. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“What else?” she said, ducking and laughing. “I’ve never actually seen him, but I’ve heard things. They say he didn’t age. Like, at all. You should go online, there are these grainy photos from, like, twenty years ago at some summit. Dashing photos, and they say he looks exactly the same now and—”
“Sheila, stop it!” I threw the pillow down in frustration. “I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to dodge this whole disaster, and you’re not helping at all, talking about his stupid ageless face!”
“Dodge it? Why?” She looked genuinely perplexed. “Just go to the dinner. It’s one meal. He’s not going to bite you because you kissed him once.”
“I can’t,” I insisted, the memory of that morning’s humiliation fresh and raw. “I just saw him a few hours ago, in his house, and I fled the next minute, not wanting to stay.”
“You can’t avoid him forever, especially if Mandy’s living there now,” she reasoned, her tone turning practical. “If you don’t go, it’s going to be fishy. Mandy will ask why you’re refusing, and you definitely won’t have a good lie ready. ‘Sorry, I’m terrified of your uncle because I used him as a human prop to make my ex jealous’ isn’t gonna fly.”
I stood up and started pacing the length of my rug, my eyes glued to the phone screen as if it might offer an escape route. “You’re not helping.”
“I think you’re making a huge deal out of this,” she said, leaning back on her elbows. “It was just a kiss. A weird, angry, public kiss. Nothing to get yourself this worked up about. He’s probably already forgotten it.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them, low and frustrated. “I hate that I can’t forget him.”
That stopped her. She sat up straighter. “How? What do you mean?”
I stopped pacing and looked at her, trying to put the swirling, nonsensical feeling into words. “I don’t know. Yes, it was just a kiss. Yes, he’s a stranger. But… It’s like it left a mark. I can’t even explain it. The feeling…” I trailed off, my cheeks heating. I couldn’t describe the jolt of electricity, the sheer, unsettling awareness that had crackled between us, both during the kiss and later when he’d watched me from across the room. It wasn’t pleasant. It was invasive.
Sheila studied my face for a long moment, then snapped her fingers as if she’d solved a puzzle. “I get it. It’s because you kissed a man that much older, and it turned out to be your best friend’s terrifying uncle. That’s a brain scrambler for anyone. But don’t worry. Give it a few days, and the anxiety will fade. You’ll forget about it.”
I looked at her skeptically. “You think?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding with exaggerated certainty. “It’s barely been twenty-four hours, right? The shock is still fresh.”
“Yeah…”
She picked up my phone and unlocked it, reading Mandy’s message out loud in a mock-serious broadcaster voice.
“‘Hey, girlfriend. I would like you to have dinner tomorrow night with my uncle and me. I’m sorry, but you can’t refuse.’” She put the phone down and looked at me, her expression turning businesslike. “See? ‘You can’t refuse.’ Mandy’s not asking; she’s telling. And you never say no to Mandy when she gets like this. So, you must go tomorrow.”
I inhaled a deep, shaky breath, feeling the walls close in. “Okay…”
“Good!” she chirped. “It will be perfect. You’ll go, you’ll make polite small talk, you’ll eat some good food, and you’ll leave. Everything will go smoothly and you won’t—”
“And my mother?” I cut in, the biggest obstacle looming. I sighed and told her about the confrontation in the living room, how Mother had known I’d left our territory, the raised hand, everything.
Sheila’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? She almost slapped you?”
“Yes. So I’m sure she’s going to put me under house arrest for the next week. No outings. Definitely no dinners in forbidden packs.”
“Wow.” Sheila chewed her lip, thinking. Then her eyes lit up. “Okay, then I’ll tell her. I’ll say we’re going out together tomorrow night. To the movies or something in the city.”
I stared at her. “Really? You would come to the dinner with me?”
“No, silly,” she said, waving a hand. “I’ll drop you off at Dead Moon, and then I can go see James. He’s been whining about me not visiting.”
I gave her a flat look. “So, you want to use my crisis as an excuse to go see your boyfriend? Charming.”
“No! I want to help you get out of the house so you don’t get scolded into next year! It’s a win-win for both of us. You get to your awkward dinner, I get to my not-awkward date. See?”
I rolled my eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. “Okay. Fine. You have a deal.”
She grinned, triumphant, but then her expression shifted again, turning sly and serious. She leaned forward. “So. Now that we have your immediate crisis managed… how are we going to get back at Logan?”
The question hung in the air. I hadn’t let myself think about it, not properly. The hurt was still too raw, too close to the surface.
“It’s necessary,” she pressed, seeing my hesitation. “He needs to learn that you can be sweet, but you’re also a poison when messed with. He underestimated you. He thinks you’re just a blinded, lovesick weakling. You have to prove him wrong.”
I nodded slowly, the cold determination I’d felt by the riverbank returning, sharper now. “I want him to pay. I want him to regret it. I just… don’t know how to make that happen. I haven’t even thought of the perfect revenge.”
Our eyes locked across the room. The air between us crackled with a new kind of energy, not panic, but purpose.
“However,” I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for doubt, “I am not going to let my heart be crumpled into nothing while he goes scot-free. Not a chance.”
Sheila’s smirk was full of fierce pride. “Good.”