A Is for Alpha Male

by Laurel Curtis

  “Mostly?” I asked.

  “There’s a lot of sex in here. I’m really starting to understand “V” and “X”,” Danny answered without actually answering at all.

  “Sex is important,” I defended.

  Moving quickly and lifting himself from his prone position to sitting at the edge of the bed right in front of me, Danny agreed, “Oh yeah, I agree. I’m just getting a little more understanding of what you like.”

  God, he was so close, and the air actually felt sexually charged, so heavy it was almost suffocating and crackling with unconfined electricity.

  I wondered what he would do if I just dropped my towel. My hand holding it closed twitched with the urge, and my teeth sunk into my bottom lip with anticipation.

  Unfortunately, that was as far as it got.

  Taking out his imaginary gun and blowing my idea to smithereens, he finished, “You know, so I’ll be more help in narrowing down the field of guys out there.”

  Fuck.

  It obviously wasn’t his intention, but that statement was like a big, meaty handed slap to the face.

  It was time to let go of the hope and realign my priorities here. I wanted him to be my friend no matter what. I needed to focus on that and open my eyes back up to the possibility of other guys.

  I was tempted to complain about how unfair life was, but it was beyond obvious that that would be the very definition of “First World Problems”, so I refrained.

  Instead, I kept my pout on the inside, moved to the side of the bed and leaned down, careful to keep myself covered, picked up my pink tote bag, muttered a quick, “Thanks Danny,” and then shut myself back in the steamy bathroom to get dressed.

  Damp skin didn’t seem like such a big deal when the choice came down to either that or humiliation.

  “YOU OKAY, BABY girl?” my mom asked as we settled into the bed facing each other that night.

  I was good at keeping up the positivity and jokes, and manifesting a pretty good depiction of happiness, but my mom could always see it in my eyes.

  “Yeah, Mamalicious. I’m fine. Just a little disappointed is all,” I answered as she reached out and took my hand in hers. “It’s pretty clear that while Danny may be flirty, he doesn’t want our relationship to go anywhere other than friendship.”

  Allison’s hand squeezed mine and her eyes were filled with sympathy. “Then you know what to do. You are not the kind of woman who needs a man, Haley.”

  “Yeah, but I really want one,” I whined.

  Allison giggled and said, “Then keep looking. But don’t forget who you are in the meantime. We’ll go to the beach tomorrow, relax and get an even darker tan, and then we’ll hit the road. We’ve got a lot of places to see.”

  I wanted to say thank you, but instead I just said, “Sounds like a plan.”

  Allison apparently took my words at face value, drifting seamlessly into an even breathed, sound sleep.

  My mind, however, wouldn’t turn off, turning over the night’s events and the complicated mixture of my feelings in an endless loop.

  Danny had been gone when I came out of the bathroom, and I figured it was to avoid what would surely be an awkward moment.

  He had to have been getting tired of me trying to flirt with him when all he wanted was to be my friend.

  I would do my best to modify my behavior, but part of it came too naturally to change. If he thought attitude was an avenue for flirting, we were in trouble. I had it in spades, and I couldn’t turn it off. Enough guys had wanted me to be serious in the past, but not only was the sarcasm who I was, I honestly couldn’t control it.

  And I didn’t want to.

  That was part of Danny’s appeal. He didn’t seem to mind my mindless babbling and ridiculous tangents that were both riddled with inappropriate commentary. He seemed to embrace it.

  When I had gotten my act together and wandered down the hall to the porch, everyone had had some type of drink in their hand and the atmosphere was light.

  Danny’s eyes met mine, and I could tell he was trying to reassure me that everything was as it should be between us, despite my embarrassment in the bedroom.

  I mean it wasn’t like I had dropped my towel, but my face combined with my actions had pretty clearly painted the picture of my unrequited feelings.

  Eager to diffuse the stiffness of mood I felt, I had convinced everyone to play a messed up version of Twenty-one Questions where you can only ask questions with the word “suck” in them. I called it “Twenty-one Questions Can Suck It”.

  You can still ask innocent questions; it just forces you to be creative.

  Would you rather suck on a lollipop or crunch it until you get to the center?

  What’s the suckiest moment you’ve ever experienced?

  What’s one action you committed for which you deserved to be called a cocksucker?

  If you could suck a celebrity, who would it be?

  The last one took a few creative liberties, but it still worked.

  You might also be thinking that Allison would be opposed to a game like this, but she was used to it. This was the only version Hunter and I ever played.

  Danny and Wade had been good natured in their answers and fun and creative with their questions, but one thing had bothered me.

  When asked about his suckiest moment, Danny had lied. I didn’t know how I could tell, but I could. And I knew he did it on purpose.

  I know sometimes people make up memories or embellish them in this kind of situation due to a hazy memory.

  But not Danny.

  He hadn’t forgotten it. He never forgot.

  Something about the lie had made him seem so vulnerable, like there was a whole other layer underneath.

  And I desperately wanted to know about it.

  Ugh.

  It was the height of irony, really. A lie, and the secrets it masked, being the thing that haunted and niggled at the conscience of someone, whose one and only rule was honesty, the most.

  It was time to come up with some negative thoughts about Danny because thinking of all the reasons I liked him wasn’t helping.

  Okay, so he has a horribly boring name. And maybe he isn’t really all that Alpha. It seemed like he would be more distinctly blunt if he were.

  I’m not interested in you, Haley.

  Or something.

  After all, Alphas in books were always very clear. You are mine. Or something similar to Fuck off when they weren’t interested.

  But, no. That wasn’t it. He definitely had an alpha personality.

  God, I didn’t know. It was too complicated to try to figure out. Besides, women often spent way too much time analyzing the shit out of stuff that didn’t really need to be analyzed.

  He wanted to help me find a guy. A different guy. End of fucking story.

  More negative thoughts, I needed more negative thoughts.

  I had yet to see a motorcycle.

  And he wasn’t dangerous. He was a bartender.

  I wouldn’t know about his junk, but I would venture a guess that it was perfect. Probably respectably delicious in every way.

  Obviously, my pledge to be negative was extremely fleeting.

  Skipping further down the list, I wondered if he had any tattoos. I still hadn’t managed to find out. He had seen me practically naked, but it had been completely one sided.

  Ugh, the way he had flirted with me and then shot me down.

  It had been such a letdown.

  God, who was I kidding? My feelings far exceeded those of someone who had suffered a minor let down. In fact, I was kind of pissed about it. I felt like he set me up for failure with all of the mixed signals.

  Maybe I would try to call him tomorrow so that I could see him again before we left. I felt like if I left now, without seeing him, I would be trapped in the emotional limbo of resentment.

  You know the place. Every interaction becomes awkward or forced, and no amount of determination or will will be able to forge the breach created b
y what-might-have-been. Eventually, interaction becomes too labor intensive altogether, and before you know it, you just give up...break contact completely.

  And I really didn’t want that for my relationship with Danny.

  Yeah, I’d go to the beach tomorrow, enjoy the sun, and then see if I could track him down tomorrow night so that I could say goodbye on a positive note.

  Finally closing my eyes, I drifted slowly into a restless sleep, my mind still clouded by the conflicting emotions swirling there.

  For the first time in my life, I thought I might actually be doing the unthinkable.

  Lying to myself.

  WHEN I WOKE up at Seven o’clock, I didn’t bother showering, but instead, just put on my aqua blue, Victoria’s Secret bikini, with the cheeky bottom that showed an inappropriate amount of ass cheek, right on top of the grime of yesterday.

  Yeah, I know, Victoria’s Secret again. Let’s just say, I owed Victoria a lot of money and I definitely knew her secret.

  It has something to do with stretchy fabric and a lot of padding. Oh, and something that looks a lot like raw chicken cutlets.

  Anyway, this was what bathing suits like this were for. Vacations where you intended to be sun kissed on as much skin as possible and didn’t know anyone to get embarrassed in front of.

  And no one showered before they went to the beach. Not anyone normal anyway.

  Once I made sure all my bits and pieces were covered and roused Allison to get her to don the same attire, I grabbed a ponytail holder from my bag and headed into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  I had lost another hair tie last night, and it was starting to get annoying. But I really wasn’t too surprised because my day yesterday had been filled with wardrobe changes and adventure.

  And both of those were big culprits in the mystery of lost hair ties.

  Once in the bathroom, I grabbed my paddle brush, ran it through my medium auburn-brown hair, and surveyed my face in the mirror.

  My skin was healthy and golden, and while there was a tinge of disappointment, my bright blue eyes were still light with life.

  I put the brush down on the counter, swept my hair back into a messy ponytail, and then secured the lavender band around it.

  About the time I picked up my toothbrush and swathed on a chunk of toothpaste, Allison came stumbling in, her sleepy voice grumbling, “Too late. Too early. Old lady.”

  Years of experience allowed me to translate that into, “I stayed up too late to get up this early. I’m an old lady.”

  Laughing, I rubbed her back and assured her, “You can go right back to sleep on the beach. I’ll even be sure to turn you over so you don’t overcook and make sure you don’t get any weird tan lines like a handprint on your stomach or anything.”

  If she was anyone else I probably would have played a practical joke and drawn a penis on her in sunscreen after she fell asleep, but the rulebook of life clearly stated you couldn’t do that to your mother. Especially if she had a vengeful streak as nasty as Allison.

  When I was five, I switched the sugar and salt in her shakers.

  Yeah, I was a little shit even back then.

  Anyway, in retaliation, she outed me as a bed wetter. Granted, it was only to a couple of other five year olds, but I’m telling you, her revenge has a nasty bite.

  She grunted her ascent and then grabbed my brush to drag it through her hair. I dunked my toothbrush under the stream of water coming from the faucet and scrubbed every tooth in the standard circular motion.

  Allison reached for a huge claw clip and twisted her hair into it just as I was finishing brushing my teeth.

  I wiped my face with the hand towel and then asked, “So how was Wade?”

  Allison rubbed her face with both hands, no doubt trying to make the sleepiness take a hike, and mumbled, “Nice. Really hot. That’s about all I know so far. He’s pretty closed off with personal information.”

  “I noticed that too. Kind of like he presents an answer like it’s really simple, doesn’t say anything else about it, and then moves on before you can ask another question.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “Well, he’s friendly at least.”

  “And doesn’t have bad breath or man boobs,” I added.

  “True story,” she acquiesced, adding, “Maybe he’s just the quiet type. That wouldn’t be so terrible. It’s even on the list.”

  I nodded absently and left the bathroom, stewing in my own thoughts about the list.

  Gathering my stuff that I would need down at the beach, I noticed that, thankfully, Danny had put my kindle back in my tote bag last night before leaving the room.

  Sitting on the beach without it would be sacrilegious. And really boring.

  Especially since the ocean and I weren’t best friends.

  Who was I kidding? We weren’t even frenemies.

  It made you all sticky and salty when you came out, sharks lived there, and oh yeah, the waves beat the ever loving hell out of you if you didn’t time your escape from them just right. I went in a maximum of knee deep and only at brief and infrequent intervals used to cool off.

  No, being a surfer babe wasn’t in the cards for me.

  Also, I was looking forward to re-reading a few more books and doing a little more research.

  Confusion had started to set in since we got here, and I found myself asking, “What am I really looking for?”

  And wasn’t that a heavy fucking question for this early in the morning.

  After reading the wonderfulness of Sweet Dreams for an hour on my back, and then flipping over to read for another hour on my stomach, I flopped gracelessly to my back again, closed my kindle and dropped it into my bag to keep it out of the sun, and closed my eyes behind the shade of my sunglasses.

  Allison, the poor girl, really must have been worn out, as she’d been passed out since we got out here, only grunting in annoyance when I poked her to let her know she should roll over.

  I was just on the precipice of falling into a nice little cat nap, when the sun disappeared, the sudden change in light grabbing my attention and forcing me to open my eyes.

  When what I found blocking out the sun turned out to be a very large man looming over me, I screamed an only slightly muted version of bloody murder. My hands flailed, and I fell gracelessly out of my chair, my body belly flopping onto the ground next to me with sand spraying out in every direction.

  The sound of my terror woke Allison from a sound sleep suddenly, causing her to lash out, her whole body jumping and spasming as a scream of her own came streaking out of her mouth. She too found herself out of her chair, but in the process, her flailing leg did a sweep and took out our would be assailant right at the knees.

  His body went flying, and he landed flat on his back in the sand, his breath coming out only in wheezes as he struggled to move air in and out of his lungs.

  Struggling to my knees, I reached a hand in my top and scooped out the bucketful of sand that had sandwiched itself between my breasts, and cautiously tried to get a look at the madman as I did.

  Working my way up the body, I saw manly, bare feet, tan, hair covered legs, and a pair of black board shorts that were being filled out quite nicely. Keeping my naughty eyes moving, I encountered a matching, tan, washboard stomach with a smattering of dark hair running down the center, a firmly delicious chest with a tattoo I couldn’t quite make out across the left peck and shoulder, and a strong jaw...that I recognized.

  Well, shit.

  Oopsie.

  Crawling on my hands and knees, I made my way over to Danny and put my face in front of his in an attempt to ascertain the state of his health.

  When his eyes met mine with the right amount of focus and his breaths started to come evenly, I smiled, waved a little, and said with breezy casualness, “Oh. Hey, Dan-o.”

  Shaking his head slightly in the sand, he muttered, “Hales.”

  Looking back down at his chest, I took a closer gander at his tattoo. It was hard to make out at
first, but after a few seconds I managed to decipher that the part on his chest was a tribal, abstract sort of depiction of a map of the world, and coming across his shoulder was what looked like a hand reaching for it.

  Danny cut into my observations, sitting up and pushing me back up to my knees in the process.

  “If you’re done pulling a double-team attack on me, do you think we could talk, Haley?” he sort-of-asked. He phrased it like a question, but it didn’t exactly sound like a question.

  It sounded like we were going to talk. Period.

  Still, Haley Whitfield was no pushover.

  Looking over my shoulder at Allison as she lifted herself back into her chair, I surveyed her with my eyes and she gave me a nod.

  She was calm after such a traumatic event, but we were involved in them enough that, after time, you became somewhat desensitized.

  Turning back to Danny, I answered, “Sure, Danny.”

  Okay, so I wasn’t a pushover...until I asked my mommy for permission.

  Po-tay-toe, Po-tah-toe.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked politely.

  He just nodded, climbed to his feet, and then reached a hand down to help me up.

  After about ten feet of silence, my nervousness took over and I started to babble. “So, um, sorry we almost killed you and everything. But when you were looming over me like that, I couldn’t see your face, and I kind of thought you were there to kill me. I mean I don’t think you look like a killer or anything, but I was right on the edge of consciousness, so you startled me, and then I screamed, and then I woke up Allison with a shriek that put her on high alert—”

  “Hales,” Danny cut in.

  “Right,” I muttered in answer.

  We walked for several more hundred feet before either one of us spoke again.

  “Look,” he said. “I sought you out today because I didn’t like the way we left things yesterday.”

  That made two of us.

  “You put on a good song and dance, acting like everything was fine, but I could tell you were a little upset.”

  Okay, so Allison wasn’t the only one who could see it in my eyes. Damn turquoise windows to the soul.