Page 55 of Alpha Brock

His scent immediately overwhelms me; I feel a little lightheaded. Suddenly the fruit in my mouth tastes sweeter and my skin flushes hot from his proximity alone. He slides both arms around my waist, tugging me backwards into his chest, and my eyes go wide as I see Sam react by squinting and leaning closer to the screen, trying to discern what he’s seeing.

“Who…?” Sam starts to ask.

“Gotta go, talk to you later, Sam!” I say quickly, reaching out and slamming my laptop closed, ending the video call.

Brock dips his head down beside mine, his lips hovering next to my ear. “Who was that?”

A chill skitters up my spine. I bring my hands to cover his, tipping my head back onto his shoulder. “Just Sam. He’s my brother’s beta.”

And my ex-lover.

I pause, considering.Should I tell him that?

He beats me to the punch. “Hm. You two seem awfully friendly,” Brock comments, his arms tightening around my waist, sucking the air from my lungs as his lips go to my neck.

Goosebumps break out over my skin. “Yeah,” I murmur, my eyes sliding closed. “We grew up together. And uh, we used to date.”

I feel Brock’s body tense behind mine. While he’s typically able to mask every emotion, it would seem that jealousy is the exception.

“We’re better as friends, though,” I quickly add.

He lets me peel his arms from around my waist and I spin to face him, leaning back against the kitchen island as my eyes roam his bare chest. They travel across his broad shoulders, down to his hard pecs. Trace his eight-pack abs and dip to the V-shape of his Adonis belt. It’s like he’s chiseled from marble; every muscle is well defined and ripples with his movements.

My eyes track back up his chest and land on his, a clear emerald green that reminds me of the forest. My lips tick up into a smile as I step closer again, reaching out to touch his stomach, running a hand up to his shoulder that leaves a trail of sparks in its wake.

“You’re sort of beautiful, you know that?” I muse.

He slides an arm around my back, yanking me into his hard chest. His other hand goes to the back of my hair, wrapping it around his fist and tugging on it so that my head falls back, my face angled up to his. My heart hammers against my ribs as he leans his head down and his lips part to speak, but I hear Brent’s voice instead.

“Am I interrupting?”

Brock growls in annoyance, his eyes leaving mine to land on his brother. “Yes.”

I turn my own head in the direction of the voice, spotting Brent striding into the kitchen. I try to wriggle free from Brock’s grip, but he doesn’t budge.

“Good,” Brent smirks, drawing closer.

Brock heaves an irritated sigh and finally relinquishes his grip on me. I step out of his arms and turn toward Brent, smoothing my hair and greeting him with a smile.

“What are you up to tonight?” I ask, noticing that he’s dressed in jeans and a plaid button-down rather than his usual sweats and t-shirt combo.

Brent moves past the two of us to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer and twisting the cap off. “Just meeting up with a few friends at the bar,” he says, tipping the bottle to his lips and taking a swig. He swallows it down, his eyes sliding from Brock to me. “Wanna come?”

“Oh, not tonight,” I sigh, leaning back against the kitchen island. Brock’s still in my space, standing like a barrier between Brent and me. “More of my pack is coming tomorrow morning, so I’ve gotta be there to greet them and help them get settled. And the last time I did that after a night at the bar wasn’t very pleasant.”

“Ah, come on,” Brent urges, chuckling. “How about just for one?”

“She said no,” Brock snaps. He moves closer, his arm circling my waist possessively.

Brent shoots him a look, rolling his eyes. “Damn, bro, take it easy,” he mumbles, bringing his beer to his lips and chugging the rest of it down in a few gulps. He then twists to set the empty bottle on the counter, running a hand through his hair as he moves past us. “I’m outta here.”

“Have fun!” I call after him, smiling. Then I turn back to Brock, narrowing my eyes. Silently scolding him for his rudeness.

“Jared’s meeting up with us, too,” Brent calls over his shoulder as he grabs his coat from the rack and slides it on. “So you guys feel free to carry on with…” he gives a wave of his hand, “whatever the fuck it is that you’re doing.”

Brock scowls. I giggle. And if that’s not a perfect representation of the two of us, I don’t know what is.

Brent exits through the front door and I turn back to Brock, a grin sliding across my face. “You wanna make tacos?”