Alpha Theo by C.J. Primer

CHAPTER EIGHT

Theo

“Sup, nerds?” I greet as I walk into the IT hub the next afternoon. I’m really settling into this new gig as the liaison- it isn’t half as boring as I expected now that I’ve made it my mission to bed Brooke Eastwick.

Speaking of Brooke, she doesn’t even glance up at me when I walk in. I make my rounds to the other desks, asking the geeks if they have anything to report back to Gray, and by the time I get to her desk in the back of the room she still doesn’t acknowledge me.

What gives? I apologized for yesterday. You’d think a self-proclaimed ‘nice girl’ would be a little more gracious.

Instead, it seems she’s giving me the cold shoulder today. She doesn’t say anything when I drag a chair over to her desk, sink down into it. Doesn’t respond when I greet her with a “hey kid”. Doesn’t flinch when I kick my boots up on the edge of the desk. Doesn’t comment when I tear open the wrapper of my protein bar and start eating it.

Okay, now I’m bored.

I decide to poke a little, see if she’s actively ignoring me or just engrossed in her work.

“Whatcha workin’ on?” I ask, craning my neck to see her monitor.

I’m met with no response other than the clicking of her keyboard.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair while an uncomfortable silence settles over us again. I take another bite of my snack. Chew, swallow. Still nothing.

I clear my throat to speak again. “You’re not still mad about the whole virgin thing, are you?” I ask, biting down on my protein bar.

That elicits a response. Brooke’s eyes fly wide behind her glasses as she looks around in a panic. “Will you keep it down?!” she hisses, finally turning to look at me.

“Wha?” I ask around the protein bar that’s still stuffed in my mouth. I bite down, chewing while she stares daggers through me.

Brooke shakes her head, a faint blush of embarrassment forming on her cheeks. “Could you not talk about that here?” she whispers.

I smirk. As if it’s some big fucking secret that she’s a virgin.

Her eyes darken. I don’t want to blow it now that she’s actually talking, so I change course, throwing up my hands and feigning innocence. “My bad. I’m just trying to figure out why you seem like you’re mad at me after I already said I was sorry.”

Brooke swivels her chair to face me, folding her hands in her lap. She’s wearing an Aerosmith t-shirt today with her ripped up jeans and sneakers. “You didn’t apologize for what you said, you apologized that I got upset over it.”

I arch a brow. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference,” she sighs, spinning to face her computer again.

What the fuck? I don’t know why this chick is picking apart my words rather than just accepting my apology and moving on. Doesn’t she realize it was a big deal that I even apologized in the first place?

She’s really making me work for it.

Brooke starts typing again and I finish the last bite of my protein bar, wadding up the wrapper.

“Listen, kid, I’m not good with words,” I say, tossing the wrapper toward the trash can. “I said I was sorry, isn’t that enough?”

She freezes, fingers hovering above the keyboard. Then she turns back to me, slowly, and from her expression I can see she’s considering. “Fine,” she breathes, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I accept your apology.”

I grin. “See, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Brooke’s eyes narrow and she shakes her head, turning away.

I watch her work for a moment, those long thin fingers gliding across the keyboard. She got rid of the chipped purple nail polish- her nails are painted blue now, instead.

My eyes travel to the swatches of smooth tan skin made visible by the rips in her jeans, and I find my mind wandering back to how those long legs of hers looked the other night in a mini-skirt and heels, wandering to how they’d feel wrapped around my waist…

Fuck. Now I’m sporting a semi. I shift in my chair, reaching down to adjust my dick in my jeans to hide it.

“I started to listen to that playlist,” I say in an attempt to talk about something, anything to make this boner go away. “Your taste in music is all over the place. Classic rock, alternative, indie, folk, punk rock…”

“What can I say,” Brooke interrupts, shrugging her shoulders. “I like a little bit of everything.”

She stops typing, swiveling halfway toward me again. My eyes involuntarily flicker to her legs, then back up to meet hers. Damnit.

“For me it’s more about the song than the genre, y’know?” she asks, tucking her long hair behind her ears. “The music, the lyrics. I don’t care who sings it if the song’s great.”

I smile, shrugging out of my jacket. “Yeah… I get that.”

I swear I see the hint of a smile forming on her lips, so I sling my jacket over the back of my chair and go on. I’ve totally got her on the hook now- the ol’ Theo charm works every time.

“I listened to some Green Day. I liked one of their songs…” I trail off, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and my forefinger, squeezing my eyes shut and searching my mind for the title. “Something like, I walk alone?”

“Boulevard of Broken Dreams?”

I snap my fingers. “That’s the one.”

Brooke tilts her head to the side a little, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. She stares at me like she’s evaluating me, fitting puzzle pieces together.

“What?” I ask, crossing my arms to mimic her position. Her eyes dart to my muscular arms, then back to my face.

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “It’s a good song. Just interesting that you’d pick out that one.”

I arch a brow. “Why’s that?”

Brooke shrugs again. “It’s a song about loneliness. You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever been lonely.”

I scowl, sliding my feet off of her desk and shuffling in my chair uncomfortably. “I just liked the song. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Okay.” She turns back to her computer, the glow of the monitor reflecting in the lenses of her glasses.

I blow out a breath, leaning back in my chair again and fiddling with a loose thread on the hem on my t-shirt.

If only she knew how inaccurate her assessment of me was. Just because I have people around me all the time doesn’t mean I’m not lonely. The girls I sleep with want one thing- a night with an alpha to brag to their girlfriends about. They don’t want to get to know me. No one does. Even my own friends can’t stand me half the time.

I guess I don’t blame them.

We sit in silence for a while and I just watch Brooke work. I watch how she wrinkles her nose in concentration, bites on her bottom lip gently. How her fingers glide across the keyboard. The characters she’s typing on the screen look like absolute gibberish- I don’t know how she makes sense of them.

“Are you debunking?” I ask, finally breaking the silence.

Brooke turns to me, purses her lips, then they spread into a smile. I’m not sure if I’ve seen it before, but her smile is stunning. It lights her whole face up.

She giggles- actually fucking giggles- and shakes her head. “I think you mean debugging. And no, not yet. I’m still stuck on writing the actual code.”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I’m not fluent in nerd speak.”

She rolls her eyes, returning them to her monitor. “Too bad. I could use some help with this.”

“My sister got all of the nerd genes,” I mumble. “You’d be better off asking her.”

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Brooke replies, still typing. “But I’d have to get it in front of her so she could really dig in.”

Click. Click. Click.

“I’m actually heading back to Summervale tonight, if you wanna come,” I offer. “My old man asked me back for some reason.” Probably to remind me what a colossal failure I am as a son.

She snaps her head around to look at me, big blue eyes lighting up. “Really? I mean, that would be great, I could really use another set of eyes on this and Quinn’s great with coding.”

I shrug, playing it cool even though her reaction makes me feel like a rockstar. “Yeah, no problem. Just wear a jacket, it can get chilly on the bike at night.”

Brooke’s smile fades from her face. “Your motorcycle?”

Duh. I nod.

“Oh, uh…” She takes her hands off of her keyboard, wringing them in her lap. “I… can’t.”

What the hell? A few seconds ago she was stoked to ride back with me. I narrow my eyes, studying her again. “Why not?”

Brooke shakes her head. “I’m not comfortable with motorcycles. They’re dangerous.”

I arch a brow. “Have you ever even been on one?”

She shakes her head again.

“Aw, c’mon,” I chuckle. “I’ll take it nice and slow for your first time.”

And I don’t just mean the motorcycle ride.

Another shake of her head.

Damn, this chick is stubborn.

I heave a sigh, reaching back to pull my jacket off of the chairback. “Fine, I’ll see if I can borrow Gray’s Jeep. Meet me out front at five?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Brooke breathes, the corners of her mouth tipping up into a smile. “See ya then.”

I rise to my feet, slinging my jacket over my shoulder. Guess I’ve gotta go track Gray down to see about borrowing that Jeep.

I tip my head to Brooke before I head to the door, flashing her a smile. “Later, kid.”