Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140: That Girlfriend

My throat feels tight. Words are dangerous. Have to keep my mouth shut.

Logan’s being so tender. So sweet. Caring and loving and darling. The perfect partner, the kind of guy every woman would swoon over if I told them how well he treats me...

And I’m fucking furious.

The mattress shifts as he stands. "Are you hungry? I’ll order some food. The room service here is excellent."

"Sure."

The word sounds like the last yodel of a dying cat, but he doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong as he walks away.

Muscles ripple under his tanned skin, and I press my tongue against my teeth, my irritation once again abated by the pure sex the man oozes.

Yeah. Focus on his pretty man-body. Don’t be that girl. You’re not a crazy, clingy, neurotic girlfriend. You’ve never been one before, and you don’t need to start now.

Yes.

Good pep talk.

I’m doing great.

But then my little doom spiral of thoughts returns full force. If he could visit his parents’ house, he could have called. Texted. Anything. A simple "hey, I’m still alive" would have sufficed.

It was all fine when I thought he couldn’t contact me. But now I feel a little...

Betrayed is too strong of a word.

Let down, I guess.

Yeah. I feel let down.

I pull the comforter over my body, tucking it tight around my chest. Understanding Nicole and Neurotic Nicole are still battling it out in my head, and until I figure out what I’m feeling or how to respond to it, I should keep all the good bits off display.

It’s not a punishment. It’s just natural.

No; I’m lying to myself. It’s definitely a punishment. An R-rated, if you don’t text me, you can’t see my boobies level of childish tantrum he’s probably not even going to notice.

"They have an amazing ribeye," Logan calls from the other room. Then his head pops around the doorframe, a lopsided smile quirking his lips. "Or if you prefer seafood, the Chilean sea bass is supposedly their specialty."

Yup. He has no idea.

The casual normalcy of his tone makes something inside me go snap.

"When exactly did you visit your parents?"

He blinks, then stands fully in the doorway, a menu in hand. "What?"

"Your parents. You said it was a family car. It’s your parents’ car, right?"

His head tilts and his eyebrows tug down as his green eyes stay steady on mine. "Yesterday. Why? What’s wrong?"

"Did you just show up without warning?"

A slight shake of his head. "No. I asked first."

"Ah ha." Triumph can also make your heart bleed a little. "So you had access to a phone? The ability to communicate with the outside world?" My voice sounds eerily calm, even as my heart’s joined Neurotic Nicole, picked up a pitchfork, and started beating at my chest like crazy.

Logan steps forward, but the motion is hesitant. "Nikki, why are you upset?"

"You called your parents. You couldn’t send me a single text saying you were still alive? This entire time, I thought you—"

"Wait." He holds up his hands, eyes wide. "Wait, wait. No, it’s not what you’re thinking."

My jaw juts forward as I cross my arms over my blanket-clothed chest. "Oh?"

His hesitation is gone, and Logan’s grin transforms his entire face as he saunters over to sit beside my legs. The tight coil of anger within me reacts to the easy confidence radiating from him, making me even more frustrated.

"You know," he says, voice dropping to the husky rumble that usually turns my bones to jelly, "you’re really cute when you’re angry. Your cheeks puff out like a furious little hamster."

He reaches for my face, one finger extended as if to poke my cheek. I smack his hand away.

A hamster. Really?

Meissen vase to the head aside, I’m not a physical kind of person. I don’t just hit the guys I date because I’m angry.

I don’t.

"My father was with me!" He shouts the words through his laughter, putting my rage on instant halt. "I didn’t call anyone! I swear!"

My pillow freezes mid-air once again. "What?"

"My father," he repeats, face red and breathing hard from laughing, though his eyes have turned serious. "He was with me the whole time."

The pillow droops in my hands, confused and guilty over the sudden assault.

The pillow. Because, you know... it made me do it.

Yeah.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it, even as guilt floods my face with the unique heat of sheer mortification. "What do you—he was with you? On the mission?"

Logan takes advantage of my confusion to gently pry the pillow from my grip and toss it across the bed. "Yes. He was with me. The entire time, from day one until we were done."

Wow.

I’d just made a complete fuss over... nothing.

Neurotic Nicole cringes into a corner of my head, and Understanding Nicole takes a shovel to bury her, fifteen feet deep, where she can never come out again.

Ever.

Oh, my God.

I’m never living this down. Logan is not the kind of guy to just forget about the time I lost my shit over a misunderstanding. After all, he’s kind of dating the person who threw the rejection in his face at every chance I got...

Ah, karma, you evil little bitch.

The cold knot in my stomach begins to unravel, just a little, and I parrot blankly, "There. The whole time."

"Yeah. Are you feeling better now? Or are you still mad at me?" ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

He bends over my body, tilting his head so he’s looking at me from below, looking so freaking... cute, with his wide eyes and sweet smile. "Am I forgiven yet?"

I clear my throat. "You know... I think the ribeye sounds good. In fact, it’s fantastic. The best choice. You should order it before they run out."

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