Page 24 of Alpha Brock
“Sorry,” I mumble again, and I actually mean it. Now that a few more hours have passed and I’m thinking clearer, I realize that I was a real dick to the girl in response to something that was no fault of her own. I fucked up, and I’ll own it.
“It’s okay, big guy,” Astrid replies, the corner of her mouth turning up into a half-smile. “You obviously went through something, and hey, I get it.” She reaches over, patting me on the bicep. “Just don’t take it out on me again, huh? I know the whole psychic thing is weird and hard to wrap your head around, but it’s not like I can help it. It’s just part of who I am.”
I swallow hard, past what feels like gravel in my throat.Yeah, I was a colossal douche last night.This girl’s too nice for her own good.
“I didn’t mean what I said about your ability or whatever,” I growl.
She waves me off with a hand. “It’s fine, seriously. I know it’s a lot.”
“It’s not. It’s just that when you said…” I trail off, suddenly unable to say it.Her name. I don’t do this; I don’t get vulnerable with people. I don’t slice open my scars and let anybody else see me bleed. I’ve built a wall a mile thick around myself and I don’t let anyone in.
“Yeah, I should’ve realized I struck a nerve,” Astrid murmurs, gaze transfixed on the road ahead. She turns to me, wide-eyed, tucking a wild curl behind her ear. “That was my bad.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I mutter. The sincerity in her eyes is too much. This is getting too personal, too far outside of my comfort zone. I grip the steering wheel tight as I take the turn off of the main road to head into Riverton, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. We’re both quiet for a few moments, until I finally tie a nice little bow on our conversation by asking, “so we good?”
Astrid smiles softly. “Yeah, we’re good. No hard feelings.”
And just like that, the heavy feeling in my gut lifts and I feel less shitty than I have all day. I’ve never met a girl that forgives as quickly as Astrid does, but then again, I’ve never met anyone quite like her.
Apologizing was selfish- I should’ve let her stay mad at me. I should’ve told her to run.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Astrid
“I’m not taking no for an answer, we’re going,” Brent says, throwing an arm around Jared’s shoulders as I emerge from the hallway into the packhouse kitchen.
“I never said I wouldn’t go,” Jared laughs, shoving him away playfully.
“Go where?” I ask, shuffling past them to get to the refrigerator. I’ve been shut in my room since I returned from the squad complex today, digging into some IT stuff and video calling my brother and Sam. I know it’s silly to say since it has only been just shy of a week, but I miss those guys like crazy. Plus, I was dying to tell someone about the vision I had the other night.
“To the bar in Stillwater,” Jared supplies, picking up an open beer bottle from the kitchen island and bringing it to his lips.
I pull the fridge open and glance inside, searching for something to eat as my stomach rumbles in protest.
Brent polishes off his own beer, setting the bottle down and looking my way. “Hey, you should come with us. It’s ladies’ night so chicks drink for free.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask over my shoulder as I lean into the fridge, lifting the edge of the tinfoil on an aluminum pan inside. It looks like a casserole of some sort.
“You’re gonna want to try some of that,” Jared comments, watching me. “Luna Emma made it, it’s kind of her specialty.”
“What is it?” I ask, scrunching my nose as I peer under the foil, trying to determine what it is that I’m looking at.
“Tater tot casserole,” Brent says, grinning. “And trust me, it’s better than it sounds. It’s one of the few dishes that my mom does well.”
“Okay,” I shrug, replacing the foil and pulling the tray out of the refrigerator. I turn to set it on the kitchen island, nudging the door of the fridge closed with a hip.
Jared turns a dial on the oven to pre-heat it. “Let’s just warm up the whole damn thing,” he mumbles. “We’ve gotta put something in our stomachs before going out drinking.”
“So you’re coming, right Astrid?” Brent urges. I turn to see him giving me puppy dog eyes and I can’t help but laugh.
“Sure, I’ll tag along,” I say, grabbing onto the edge of the counter behind me for leverage and hopping up to sit on the surface. “I could use a little bit of fun.”
“Atta girl,” Brent grins, holding out his beer to toast me. He quickly realizes that I don’t have one and pulls open the fridge beside me to fish out a couple more. “You’re gonna love it,” he adds as he twists the tops off of them using the hem of his t-shirt, handing one to me. “It gets pretty wild there on Wednesdays.”
I take the beer from him graciously and bring it to my lips, giggling. “Sounds like fun.”
I look toward the staircase as I hear Brock’s heavy footfalls, watching as he descends them and comes into view, looking better in a t-shirt and sweats than anyone has a right to. He runs a hand through his hair and starts making his way over toward the kitchen.