Harper’s [POV]
Beau and Grey must be the Alphas I saw in the garden earlier.
“Do they live here?” I ask softly.
Charlotte politely pulls out a chair for me, and I sit. “They did at one point,” she says. “They’ll stay here occasionally, now. One of them watches the place while the others stay at their own homes.”
I nod. Something is off in the way Charlotte speaks again, but I can’t quite place it.
I don’t ask about the Alphas anymore.
That’s a mystery I don’t need to solve.
“I’ll go check on breakfast,” Charlotte adds quickly. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee sounds great.”
She leaves me alone in the dining room, and I exhale slowly.
I haven’t stayed anywhere by myself since the car accident. He’s been by my side every night, making sure I’m taking my medicine and holding me while I sleep.
It was the first night sleeping by myself in a long time.
Unless you count Wilson, who makes a surprise entrance. He jumps onto the fireplace mantle, weaving himself carefully around the decorative silver candelabra, and plops down, his green eyes slowly blinking at me.
“Good morning,” I mutter, and he yawns. Despite all my time with him, I still don’t feel any sign of allergies.
“Wilson,” a low voice warns. I stiffen at the sound.
There’s the snapping of fingers, and the feline immediately jumps off the mantle and scurries out of the dining room.
The air changes and I feel a pair of eyes burning into my back.
A scent hits me, so surprising and delicious that I almost turn around to find the source.
Spice. Chocolate.
Alpha.
His shadow is behind me, and I’m frozen where I sit. Power exudes from this man, his energy radiating throughout the room.
And God, he smells insanely good.
Footsteps approach behind me, and I stare at my hands in my lap, too anxious to look up. His looming figure takes a seat in front of me, setting a coffee mug on the table.
I look anywhere but at him. I study the intricate details of the dining table, counting the ridges and grooves.
Why sit directly across from me when there are at least twelve open seats?
“Good morning.” A low rumble sounds from him, and I force my eyes to look up.
It’s the Alpha from earlier the one in the garden who looked at me with disdain.
He’s wearing that same look now, and my heart pounds in my chest.
James looked at me with hunger.
This one looks at me with coldness. His eyes blazed into mine, rich emerald irises full of intensity. Up close, I can see the slightest bit of grey in his perfectly styled dark brown hair.
Just like James, he’s striking.
“Morning,” I mutter, looking back at the table, praying Charlotte returns with food soon.
This is so awkward.
“Welcome to Aurora Inn,” he says in between sips of coffee. “Are you enjoying your stay?”
You don’t care, I want to say. Since you’re looking at me like I’m scum on your shoe.
“It’s wonderful,” I admit begrudgingly. It’s not like he deserves to know how much this place already means to me.
“Eyes up here, Harper.”
I snap my head up, my mouth falling open in shock. “Excuse me?”
What thefuck? Who talks to someone like that?
And I haven’t even introduced myself to him. How does he know my name?
“Do you not know how to have a conversation?” he continues, taking another sip, one brow arched.
I sputter for a moment, incensed at his attitude. But then Charlotte arrives, wheeling in a small cart. My attention turns to her, but I can still feel his eyes on me.
“Alright, Harper,” she says, and my mouth waters as she places a plate in front of me. “Eggs benedict, on an English muffin. There’s also wheat toast with local honey and jam.”
She sets a carafe in front of us, pouring a cup of hot coffee into a delicate teacup that matches the plate in front of me.
It’s lovely and decadent.
I temporarily forget about the asshole sitting across from me until Charlotte turns to him. “Nothing for you, Grey?”
Grey.
So, the one that smiled at me must be Beau.
His eyes are just as cold when he turns to Charlotte and I feel a brief sense of relief. So he’s not just like that with me.
“No, Charlotte. Thank you.”
The silence is long and uncomfortable between us as the two of them share a look.
“Thank you,” I say, desperate to relieve the tension. “Eggs benedict is my absolute favorite.”
Charlotte beams at me while Grey scoffs.
What the hell is his problem?
“I’m glad, Harper. The chef will be happy to hear that.”
I refuse to look at Grey as she wheels the cart away, instead focusing on my food.
And yet his eyes are still staring at me through each heavenly bite.
Finally, in between swallows, I wipe my mouth with the cloth napkin and meet his gaze.
“You’re not eating,” I say, breaking the silence.
He motions to his cup of coffee, deliberately taking another sip. “I don’t have to eat to sit at my dining table.”
His voice is rough and low. In any other circumstance, it would be sexy.
But something feels off about him, just like James.
Stupid Alphas.
Why is Grey bothering me, anyway? Doesn’t he have an Omega to go to?
“Do you know the story behind this table?” he asks me suddenly, and I scrunch my face in confusion.
“There’s a story?”
“It was custom built,” he continues, his eyes never leaving mine. He speaks in a hushed tone as if it’s a secret. “The person who designed it dreamt it up, then sketched it out the next morning.”
“Oh. That’s interesting,” I say. “It is stunning.”
And there’s that look again. He looks haunted, taking a deep breath, and his eyes search mine. “Yes. The designer was quite imaginative.”
“Alright.” This is fucking weird, and I shove a forkful of eggs benedict into my mouth and focus my attention on Wilson, who trots back into the room with an arrow.
Grey frowns and turns his attention to the furry lump. “He shouldn’t be in here.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” I say. “Unless he’s bothering you.”
Which I can’t imagine, as Wilson flops onto his back, showing off a small white patch of stomach between the black fur.
He’s the friendliest thing here besides Charlotte.
Grey’s eyes flick back to mine. “I thought you were allergic,” he says carefully. His lips form into a thin line as he regards me. “Unless James is mistaken.”
“Do you gossip about all your guests?” I quip before I can stop myself. Grey raises an eyebrow, amused, and I sigh. “Yes. Um, I supposedly am. I haven’t been around cats in a while. And he hasn’t affected me so far.”
“What do you mean ‘supposedly?'”
I clench my fork.
He doesn’t deserve to know.
What’s happened to me is no one’s business.
But I’m never going to see him again after this week. Would it hurt to unload on a stranger, even if the stranger is a dick?
I stare at my plate as I move the egg yolk around and take a deep breath.
“Forgive me,” he says suddenly. “That wasn’t my place.”
Surprised, I glance up. His eyes are the color of the forest, the green blazing with intensity.
Just like James, he’s ridiculously handsome.
With his sliver of earnestness, I decide to tell the truth.
The truth I haven’t shared with anyone.
“I was in a car accident a while ago,” I confess, setting my fork down. “Hence, this,” I motion to the scar on my face, still visible with the makeup. “And I forgot some things about my life. So, other people have had to fill in the details for me.”
That’s all I’ll share. If I bring up him, I’ll cry, either from shame or anger.
Grey is careful, his face giving away no emotion. “How long ago was the accident?” he asks quietly.
The room is silent for far too long, and I choke down a sob that threatens to escape my throat.
I will not cry in front of him.
“About two years ago,” I admit. “And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
He looks like he wants to ask more.
Why he would care, though, is beyond me.
Unless his life is so boring that I’m somehow interesting to him.
His hand clenches the mug tightly as he brings it to his lips again.
“I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “Could be worse. I could have more than just an ugly scar.”
“It’s not ugly.”
My chest tightens at his words, and a blush spreads across my cheeks.
“Okay.”
I resume eating in silence.
Grey stays with me for the rest of my breakfast, and I pretend not to notice him staring at me.