Page 60 of LA Reign

I blink as I feel tears stinging my eyes, and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood.

“Oh for fuck’s sake don’t start with the tears, Alana,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m not in the goddamn mood.”

He pulls off his boxer shorts and climbs into bed. I look at him, wondering whether to climb in there with him. Does he want me to beg forgiveness? Does he want me to touch him, to comfort him?

The way he just spoke to me was harsh and hurtful, not to mention unfair. It’s not my fault his father got shot, but his logic is tangled. He’s in his own personal hell of grief and guilt. He lashed out at me, wounded me, but I can look past all of that if I think he needs me. If I can help him.

He rolls over in the bed, even managing to make that small movement full of rage. Then he presents me with his back and doesn’t say a word.

I love him, and I want to help him, but I have my limits. Right now, he’s being an asshole, and I’ve hit those limits. There’s nothing to be gained until he’s calmed down.

I walk out of the room and down the hall to find Kelsey.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

ALANA

Having my friend here with me is the absolute best distraction. We end up lying in bed eating from a big bowl of peanut M&Ms, the TV flickering in the background even though the sound is muted and we’re not watching it. We’ve been too busy catching up.

We share stories about our lives and our work, and we inevitably end up reminiscing, as old friend always do. We’re still giggling about a time she abandoned a date in the middle of Central Park Zoo when we hear the knock on the door. We freeze, looking at each other with our eyes wide and our mouths hanging comically open.

“Alana,” he says in his low, growling voice as he knocks again.

My heart hammers in my chest. The two of us remain silent, staring at each other. She raises her eyebrows in a question and whispers to me. “What do you want to do?”

I have no idea. Part of me wants to go to him, but part of me wants to stay here with Kelsey, where the world feels simple and safe.

“Don’t make me come in there,” Alejandro rumbles, the edge to his voice clearly audible even through the closed door.

I sigh and sit up. Time to face the music.

“You don’t have to go out there,” Kelsey murmurs, taking my hand in hers. “I will totally kick his ass if you want me to.”

I kiss her cheek and stand up. “And I totally believe you could. But I’d better go.” I hate things being wrong between Alejandro and me, and I know he’s suffering, worried about his dad. I need to try and make things right.

“Okay, but remember, I’m only down the hall. Scream twice if you want me to come rescue you.”

“Twice?”

“Well, if you only scream once, it’s probably because you’re hate-fucking, or make-up fucking,” she says with a grin.

I pick up the pillow and hit her over the head with it, making her squeal.

I walk to the door, pausing before I open it. I can practically feel his annoyance from here. I pull it open, and there he is. Six feet of solid muscle, with more than the usual amount of anger and fire thrown into the mix. He narrows his eyes at me, and I already know what he’s thinking. I’m his wife and I sleep in his bed. Period. Even if he acted like a complete jerk.

“Night, Kels,” I say softly.

“Night sweets. Night Alejandro,” she says, standing up and grinning at him. “Sleep well.” Her cheekiness dissolves some of the tension, and he manages a polite “goodnight Kelsey” as I leave the room.

He gestures for me to walk ahead. With each footstep I take towards our own room, my sense of dread builds. What is happening here? Will I be getting the silent treatment, or does he have something else in mind? Will he punish me?

No, I remind myself, his bed is not for punishment. Except…he’s in a really bad mood, and he seems to blame me for everything that is wrong in the entire world right now. If he stubbed his toe on the doorjamb, that would probably be my fault too.

By the time we’re inside the room my pulse is racing, and my stomach is a churning pit of nerves

Alejandro closes the door firmly behind us and walks to the bed. He slips his black sweatpants off and tosses them onto the floor, standing naked and still magnificent, his semi-hard cock hanging heavy between his thighs. I try not to look, but my eyes don’t get the memo.