608 Alpha Ave - Adriana Locke Page 0,9

flutter of uncertainty that sweeps through her gaze. It’s so slight, in fact, that I doubt Bryant notices at all.

But I do.

I notice everything about her.

She covers her feelings well with a bright smile. “Hey, Bryant. Hi, Grayson.”

“Hey,” I say, but my greeting is drowned out by Bryant’s cheerful reply.

“Well, good morning, Miss Morgan.” He stands tall. “How are you this fine day?”

I roll my eyes. Oh, please.

“I’m doing fine, thank you.” She giggles.

She fucking giggles.

At him.

I grit my teeth.

“How are you, Mr. Beltran?” she asks, her tone dripping with sweetness.

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.”

Gag me.

Or, gag her and let me shove my—

“How are you, Gray?” The sugariness of her tone is thicker, more like syrup, as she turns her gaze onto me. Her use of the nickname I chastised her for last night—I downright warned her about it—is front and center. “You doing all right today?”

I press my lips together, looking so deep into her eyes that I think I reach her soul.

She grins. “Great then. Glad to hear it.” She tosses me a wink before turning back to Bryant. “Do you know where the screws are?”

“What do you need a screw for?” I ask, butting into their conversation. Because it decidedly feels like their conversation.

“I’m hanging a new ceiling fan, and there are three tiny, baby-sized screws that hold the blades onto the metal bracket things that are missing. I figured Rueben would have them,” she says.

I smirk. “You’re putting a ceiling fan up? By yourself.”

She lifts her chin proudly. “Yes. Well, Kaylee is coming to help me tonight, but I wanted to get a lot of it done so we can attach it to the ceiling and then just drink wine instead.” She smiles. “Look at me, planning ahead like an adult.”

Bryant’s laughter—something I’ve never pegged as annoying until this very moment—rings through the hardware store. “I love a woman with a can-do attitude.”

Tread lightly, motherfucker.

I glare at the side of his face, but he’s oblivious.

“That’s me,” Haley says. “A woman with a can-do attitude.”

“So many women would think they need a man to help them,” Bryant says. “It’s impressive.”

I shove off the counter and stand straight—milking every bit of my six-one frame as I can.

I know where this guy is going with this line of thought. He’s trying to corner her into suggesting she might need a man’s help with something then—bingo! He’s there to step in and save the day.

Haley’s lips part to respond, but I beat her to the punch.

“Do you need a man’s help, Haley?” I raise a brow her way, crossing my arms over my chest.

I’m not sure where I was going with that but—

“Is that an offer, Grayson?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest too.

Not what I expected.

“I can help …” Bryant’s hand raises and then falls slowly to his side.

My eyes lock with Haley’s. It’s a silent war between us as we fire unspoken shots across the store’s hardwood floor, only narrowly missing Bryant in the process.

She’s more aggressive today and sure of herself.

I don’t know why she’s like this, but I fucking love it.

I imagine her pouty little lips wrapped around my cock. Her warm, dainty hands massaging my balls. Her small, perfect tits bouncing as she rides my dick and screams my name, not giving a shit who hears it or who cares.

My body shifts in a failed attempt at relieving some of the ache in my groin.

“Do you think that was an offer?” I ask.

Her confidence slips. Her jaw sets, and she whirls around on her heel and faces Bryant.

He’s bewildered. “Am I … missing something here …?” He motions back and forth between Haley and me.

“Bryant,” she says, her tone sugary once again, “I have a problem, and I was wondering if you could help.”

I clench my fists at my side.

“I …” Bryant takes a step away from me and gulps. “I don’t know. Maybe? If this is about ceiling fans, you know, maybe you should ask someone else—”

“It’s not.” Haley turns her back to me. “It’s about … men.”

You’re kidding me right now.

“Oh.” His eyes dart to mine and then back to her just as quickly. “What about men?”

“I have a couple of situations in my life where some clarity from the male species’ point of view would help. So, I’m looking for a man—an alpha male, preferably—”

“And you’re asking him?” I stare at the back of Haley’s head. “No offense, Bryant.”

Or take offense. I don’t give a shit.

“None taken …”

The sound