Page 47 of Bossed By the Alien
Heat rises in my cheeks because I have definitely been practicing as well. “That is both flattering and deeply weird.”
“I also practiced not threatening the man in the blue jacket who touched your arm near the donor wall.”
“Skylor.”
“I did not threaten him.”
“Because?”
His jaw tightens. “Because you can handle an overfriendly donor without my assistance unless you request destruction.”
“Very good.”
“I hated it.”
“I know.”
His hand presses a little more firmly to my back. “I would pull you into a supply closet if you had not specifically forbidden supply closets during office events.”
“I said no supply closets during working hours. This is clearly after hours.”
His growl vibrates against my skin, and my pulse answers like the loyal traitor it remains. "Are you having a good time?"
“Best.”
His thumb strokes once over my spine. “Are you pleased?”
I look around the room before I answer. At the campaign I built. At Loora flirting with a photographer near the dessert table. At writers laughing too loudly because they know something beautiful is happening and do not yet trust it to last. At the displays showing Mack’s face, Mack’s work, my edits, Athena’s spine.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m happy.”
His breath leaves slowly, as if the answer still matters every time. Good. It should. always matter. “I love you,” I say, because I like watching the words hit him.
They still do. His pupils widen. His hand flexes against my back. The gold in his eyes warms.
“I love you,” he says roughly. “Every morning I wake beside you. Every night you choose my bed. Every time you argue with me until I become better or angrier, often both. I love you.”
I steal a coffee bean from his bowl and pop it into my mouth, mostly to give myself something to do besides melt in public. The bitterness hits my tongue, sharp and earthy, and his growl follows it.
“Save that for home,” I tell him, then wink because I have learned that winking drives him crazy. Is it weird that I know him and am still discovering him? Maybe that is mating. Owning the map and still finding hidden rooms.
We leave the launch together after I say my goodbyes, accept six compliments, dodge one donor who wants to discuss “content synergy,” and promise Loora I will call her tomorrow. Behind us, Athena roars back to life. Ahead of us, Layn waits with its sick children, stubborn princes, classified research, and one human scientist determined to make everyone uncomfortable in the name of progress.
Skylor slows his stride before I have to tug him back.
I smile without looking at him.
He notices anyway.
“By your side,” he murmurs.
“Good alpha.”
His growl follows me into the elevator, low, pleased, and full of promise. The doors close on the party, the city, the launch, and the first bright edge of whatever comes next.
This time, neither of us walks ahead.
We go together.
