Page 71 of Alpha Brock
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We spend several hours out where the battle will take place tomorrow, getting everybody on the same page and running through formations with both the Denver troops and the six-pack’s security squad. It’s after dark by the time we call it and head back to the packhouse, and I can’t be the only one who’s exhausted and emotionally drained from this day. It isn’t that late, but it feels like today has stretched on forever- it’s hard to believe I woke up in Riverton just this morning.
I don’t even realize how hungry I am until I smell the food in the packhouse kitchen, and we all eat a quick dinner, though there isn’t much conversation. We’re all tired and in dire need of a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. Once everyone’s had their fill, the six-pack alphas and their mates grab their bags and Cole, ever the helpful host, directs them down the west corridor where we’ve got ample space for packhouse visitors.
“Where’s your room?” Brock murmurs in my ear as Cole shows the others to the guest wing.
I lean backwards into his hard chest, craning my neck to whisper to him over my shoulder. “Upstairs.”
His lips brush my ear as he leans in to speak again, his warm breath on my neck sending goosebumps skittering up my spine. “Let’s go.”
Brock’s arms come around my waist, holding me in place as the others continue on down the hall.
“Okay,” I breathe, covering his hands with mine and peeling them from my body. I spin around, giving a little nod of my head back in the direction we came from. “C’mon.”
The two of us slip away from the others, heading back out to the foyer. Brock already has his duffel slung over his shoulder, but he stops to grab my suitcase before I lead him to the opposite wing of the packhouse and upstairs to my room. My heart’s pounding the entire time- Brock’s mere proximity tends to have that effect on me.
He follows me in, and I lock the door behind him as he crosses the room and drops our bags, glancing around and taking in the interior of my space. It’s nothing too fancy- tastefully decorated, well-appointed with a queen-sized bed, a couple of dressers, an en-suite bathroom, and a big walk-in closet. The walls are painted a pale shade of pink, and all of my furniture and bedlinens are a soft white. Chic and feminine.
I study Brock as he studies my space, my gaze drifting from his sharp jawline, covered in the roguish scruff of his beard, to his broad chest, where the fabric of his t-shirt is straining against his pectoral muscles, down to where his jeans hang low off his hips. When my eyes make their way back up this face, I find an amused smirk crossing it.
“What?” I ask, a blush forming on my cheeks.He totally just caught me checking him out, didn’t he?
“Nothing,” he mumbles as his eyes come to mine. He gestures around my room. “It’s just very…you.”
I purse my lips, moving toward him and closing the distance between us. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Brock shrugs, looking around again. “It’s just so…pure.”
I roll my eyes, then realize that he’s now checkingmeout. I feel the heat from his gaze practically singe my skin as it travels slowly down my body and back up again as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. I’m still casually attired in a pair of black high-waisted leggings and a powder blue cropped hoodie, but he’s staring at me as if I’m dressed to the nines, his tongue sweeping across his lips as his eyes return to mine.
He takes a step toward me, strong arms circling my waist that begin to pull me in. I almost let him, but somehow, despite how fucking delicious and masculine he smells and how good his hard body feels against mine, I’m able to come back to my senses.
“Nuh uh, paws off, mister,” I scold, swiping his hands away from my body. I shrink backwards, folding my arms over my chest. Trying my best to stay on target and not let my eyes wander over his physique again. “You owe me a conversation.”
Brock blows out a breath, running a hand through that gorgeous long hair of his, and all I can think of is how I want to run my own hands through those silky strands. “Okay,” he sighs as he takes a big step back, his calves colliding with the bed before he sinks down on the edge of it. “Let’s talk.”
Good, so we’re on the same page. I figured he’d put up more of a fight since he’s not much of a talker, but I’m pleasantly surprised that he’s being so open. Maybe all of those walls of his didn’t slam back into place the other night. I’m not exactly sure where to start, so I just jump right in.
“What you did on Saturday, to Sam…” I begin, but Brock cuts me off.
“Did you fuck him?” he grumbles.
“What?” my eyes fly wide, jaw going slack. “Why would you…”
Brock squeezes his eyes shut, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I came down after you got back. I saw you two go into your room.”
I suck in a breath. I’m speechless- one, because he just so crassly came out and asked me that, and two, because it hadn’t even occurred to me that Brock would’ve seen that and jump to the conclusion he did.
His eyes snap back open, colliding with my own. “Just do me a favor and don’t fucking lie to me.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Wh… why do you think I’d lie to you? Is that really what you think of me?”
He scowls, shaking his head. I take a step closer so I’m standing directly in front of him. Given our height difference, we’re basically eye to eye with me standing and him sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I didn’t sleep with Sam that night,” I sigh. “I see how you’d make that assumption but… damnit, Brock, don’t you know me better than that by now? Did you honestly think I’d do that to you?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” he growls, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and squeezing his eyes closed again. “I’m all fucked up, okay?”