Her smile takes another dive.
My wolf fucking hates it.
"Yeah, sure. Great. Well, if you want to grab a beer or something while you're-"
"I don't think so," I cut her off. I need to get away from this female before she snares me in her feminine web again. I still remember how gutted I felt when she left last time. "But thanks."
"Sunny!" A good-looking but clearly weak and inferior human male calls out from a table nearby. "You teaching rooftop yoga tonight?"
Oh, no he didn't.
I seriously think the asshole is challenging me. He may not even understand his own behavior-humans are idiots about pack order dynamics even though they engage in them every day-but I guaran-fucking-tee he saw me talking to Sunny and his nature prompted him to insert himself.
Asshole.
Sunny turns her bright face in his direction. "You know it! Are you coming?"
"Of course. I'm looking forward to opening my hips with you under the sunset."
Sunny snorts, which only partially mollifies my wolf. Really I'd like to go over there and punch the guy right in his gut. Teach him to fucking sniff around my territory.
Whoa.
Pull back, Titus.
This woman is definitely not my territory. I haven't marked her, nor do I plan to. The last time I mated a female it ended badly. Lost me my position in the pack and ruined my kid's life.
But I'm incapable of walking away and letting this guy open his fucking hips with Sunny tonight.
"What's rooftop yoga?" I snarl.
Amusement flickers over Sunny's face. "I teach sunset yoga on the roof of one of the cantinas on the plaza. Why? You going to come?" She folds her arms across her chest with a teasing challenge in her gaze.
And my wolf never backs down from a challenge.
Never, ever.
I splutter as I try to answer. "Yeah." The syllable wobbles across my lips. "What time?"
"Seven o'clock." Her eyes still dance with amusement. "You probably don't have any clothes you can stretch in, though."
Is she giving me an out?
I glance over at fuck-face. "I'll figure something out."
"Well, great." There's false cheerfulness in her voice now, and I don't particularly like it. Does she not want me there? Does she actually want to have a yoga date with fuck-face? She takes a couple steps back from me. "I'll see you there, then."
"Wait-where exactly?"
"On the rooftop patio above La Cantina. Follow the crowd with yoga mats-you can't miss it."
Yoga mats… fuck.
As if she reads my mind, she says, "I'll bring a mat for you." She tosses a wink before she saunters away, the swish of her hips imprinting on my brain like a hypnotic cue for lust.
Oh hell. What did I just do?
I'm out here on pack business, and I'm letting myself get distracted by a female. There's a pattern here that's uncanny. Females are trouble for me. I was kicked out of my pack over a woman. Tank and I wandered around like beggars until Emmett Green took me into his pack in Wolf Ridge, Arizona, north of Phoenix. And now after five minutes with a pretty human, I'm ready to ignore my orders for the most out of character activity on the planet-rooftop yoga.
I must be out of my fucking mind.
SUNNY
OH LORDY.
I forgot how attractive Titus is. Huge, masculine, muscular goodness. Immovable as a wall, both physically and emotionally.
But he's an alpha male, so when Chas asked about yoga, he couldn't stop himself from throwing his dick in the ring. Yeah, mixed metaphor. My specialty.
How emotionally immature.
And slightly flattering.
Well, it might have been flattering if he hadn't pretty much given me the brush off. So now it's just annoying. Like he doesn't want me, but no one else is allowed to have me either? I don't think so.
I'm not playing that game, big boy.
I'm not playing any game with you. If you want me, come and get it. But if you're still not ready, don't waste my time. I have a life to live.
I head back to my tables and start packing things up for the evening. I haven't sold a single piece today. Which is how it goes. The day felt kinda flat when I woke up this morning, but I still have to get out there and try. I'm fine-money always appears when I need it. The Universe has my back, for sure.
I don't give into the woe-is-me, I'm a starving artist thing, because I know that can turn into an identity and it's not one I'm going to choose. I climb behind the wheel of my bus and start her up. She still runs like a dream thanks to the prickly man I just walked away from.
I look around for where he's parked and spot him saddled up on his motorcycle, staring right at me. I lift my hand with an overly-cheerful wave which he doesn't acknowledge. Instead, he guns the motorcycle and takes off with a roar.
Testosterone.
The guy seriously has way too much of it.
He is definitely not a sensitive new age guy. More like King Kong meets caveman.
And yet I still sense he could be the one. There's something in me that feels so vibrant when I'm with him. Like he could be my soulmate. Twin flame. Divine partner.
But he's got his head stuck so far up his ass he wouldn't know his soulmate if she danced naked in front of him. He's the bros before hos type all the way.
He has blinders on to almost anything except his precious motorcycle club. And he may be big and strong and fierce, but what he doesn't know is that sometimes vulnerability takes the most courage. Putting yourself out there. Risking your heart. Your emotions. Your very soul for love.
But I'm not anyone to emulate. I've been hurt way too many times. I'm not going to open the door for Titus to walk through unless I know for sure this time he's ready. That it will work.