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“Ready?” I ask, ignoring the thickening behind my fly as her fingers curl around my bicep.
“I think so,” she says, curiosity animating her features as I lead her down the thickly carpeted hall toward the elevators. “I take it we’re bound for somewhere fancy?”
“Our theater company’s performance of Fiddler on the Roof, then dinner after at the rooftop bistro.”
A delighted sound bubbles up in her throat. “Oh my God, that’s my favorite old musical! I used to watch it all the time when I was kid and sing all the songs. Drove my dad crazy. He hates musicals, but Mom, Kelley, and I were addicts.” A shadow passes behind her eyes as she adds in a softer voice, “But you probably knew that. About Kelley.”
“No, actually, I didn’t,” I say, pressing the down button. “We were too busy getting into trouble for wholesome distractions.”
She glances up at me from the corner of her eyes.
“Yes?” I prompt after a moment.
“This is a very…wholesome activity. And not what I was expecting.”
“You were thinking we’d what? Snort some Poof and go attack humans in the park?”
She laughs. “No. I thought maybe sipping bourbon in a dark bar. Or…watching an MMA fight or something. Something dark and broody and Alpha-ish. Definitely not musical theater.”
“Alphas can appreciate art, too, little wolf,” I say as the elevator dings and the doors glide open.
“Not the ones I’ve met,” she murmurs as we step inside, her fingers curling a little tighter into my arm. “It’s a nice surprise. Thank you.”
“It’s also a chance for you to be surrounded by my pack without interacting with them. We’ll have our own private box to the right of the stage.”
She pushes up on her tiptoes, her shoulders lifting closer to her ears as the car zooms downward. “Wow. That’s…awesome. I’ve never been in a private box before. To be totally honest, I’ve never been to the theater at all. We could never afford it.”
“Then we’ll make sure your first time is perfect,” I say, the words bringing to mind less pleasant “first times.” I hadn’t meant to bring this up so soon, but I’m sure she expects I’ve watched her recorded statement from this morning by now. “And for what it’s worth, last night should have been perfect for you, too. Pax should be castrated. Slowly, and painfully.”
She looks up at me again, pain, gratitude, and something else—something hopeful, but maybe a little frightened—mixing in her gaze. “Thank you. That…means a lot.”
“It shouldn’t. No man—human or wolf—should ever behave that way. Compassion in this situation should be something you can take for granted, not something you’re grateful for.”
She arches a challenging brow. “Indeed. I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re being a complete Alpha-hole.”
My lips quirk. “I wouldn’t do that. I don’t enjoy having my words thrown back in my face.”
“Then don’t give me a reason to throw them.”
I fight a wider smile, forcing my features back into their serious mask before I say, “You’re awfully mouthy for a Beta.”
“And you’re awfully gentle for an Alpha. When you want to be,” she says as the car slows to a stop. “That was intended as a compliment, by the way.”
“So was mine.” I motion toward the doors as they open. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” she says, a new smile on her face, one that I like even better than her sweet smile.
It’s a smile that says maybe I’m not a complete Alpha-hole, after all.
That shouldn’t matter. It usually wouldn’t—only a handful of people’s opinions matter to me and random women I’ve just met aren’t anywhere on that list—but there’s something about this little wolf.
Something about her strength and sweetness. Something about the way she’s swift to judge, but just as swift to forgive.
Something that…I like.
And then we step out of the hallway into the nearly empty lobby of the theater and her face lights up like her every secret wish has been granted, and I like her a little bit more.
“It’s so beautiful,” she says, her eyes shining as her gaze shifts from the Art Deco-inspired lobby with its elegant statues and gleaming bar to me and back again. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
