The Alpha's Siren Song

Chapter 22

I watched Mama Mia until I fell asleep. Most nights after enduring such a twisted dream, it would take me hours to relax enough to doze off, or I would have to wait until the sun came up. Only then would I feel safe again. 

It was different here. I should have been more paranoid, more on edge. I should have fled the second my thoughts became rational again.  Instead of the fear I expected, I had to fight off the sleepiness that sucked me under. But with Easton watching my musical at my side and buffalo chicken tater tots in my belly, I was out.

When I awoke, there was a cup of tea in front of me and Easton was humming in the kitchen. The tune sounded a lot like Waterloo.

But while he was the picture of ease and comfort, I became aware of how heavy my half dried, still knotted hair was. When was the last time I looked like such a mess? I couldn't remember. Was it even possible for a siren to look this bad? But here I was, braless and without makeup, the scar that sliced over my cheeks out for everyone to see.

"Good morning," Easton murmured, catching my movement out of the corner of his eye as I rose out of the mass of blankets.

"Uh, good morning," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm making a breakfast casserole if you're hungry."

"I actually think that I should go home," I whispered. What I really thought was that I needed to put on some real clothes and run a brush through my hair. And had I not be in such a state of undress I probably would have followed my nose and seated myself at his farmhouse table, fork and knife in hand. The man was finding his way to my heart and it didn't involve a six pack or money, just sodium and fat content. 

"Oh, yeah, of course," Easton said. His voice was level and a little distant, but I saw his grip tighten on his spatula. 

No arguing, no pleading. Somehow, that made me feel worse than an argument would have.

"Thank you for last night," I whispered, but still made my way to the front door. "Is it alright if I wear your clothes home?"

"Sure," he replied, still not looking at me. I thought he was just going to ignore me until I left, but his shoulders rolled back and he spun to face me. "Would you want to go on a date tonight?"

"Excuse me?" I squeaked.

"A date."

"Um, honestly, I haven't been on a real date in years," I admitted. I tried to brush my hair behind my ear, but when my fingers got caught in a snarl I was reminded how crazy I must have looked. And he was still asking me out. Maybe he was crazy.

"I haven't been on a date, ever. But I figured it was a good place to start."

Ever. Strange. He certainly was a handsome man with his striking eyes and masculine form. But even if he had been less than lovely to look at, I was sure his magnetic personality would be enough to charm any woman. Hell, if personality wasn't enough his clean home and fancy food was an aphrodisiac in itself.

"I think a date would be nice," I whispered, my lips moving on their own accord. "What should I bring?"

"Yourself. And warm clothes, preferably dry," he muttered. The excitement that I assumed would be there when I gave in was nowhere in sight. Even men who wanted nothing more than to get in my pants usually gave me a triumphant smile when I complied.

"What time?" 

"Be here at six, I'll take care of everything. No one will give you trouble when you come back."

I heard what he wasn't saying: if I came back.

I drove back to the cabin without any incidents. I had limited access to clocks in the cabin, but the car display read just after noon.

It gave me time to clean up the mess I had made last night in the cabin. It took me a few seconds to collect myself when I entered the space again. I felt like the left over fear and anxiety coiled itself around my heart and throat, welcoming me back. But this was my space and I put in the effort to reclaim it. I couldn't be afraid of the few safe places I had left in this world.

Once that was done, I wrestled with my hair. This must have been the first time in my life that my hair didn't cooperate. Like every other siren, I had been born looking like I was already wearing makeup: sooty lashes, lips a deep pink, and a full head of blonde hair. In my pictures from my childhood, I looked like something out of a catalog or commercial.

And now that it actually mattered, I couldn't do a damn thing to make myself look better, or even presentable. To be fair, I couldn't remember the last time that I had cared about my appearance either, aside from covering up my scars in public. But now I wanted to look good for Easton, as if rosy cheeks and a pearly smile would undo everything I had put him through.

There wasn't much I could do with my limited makeup, mostly just concealer. I had no hot tools and no time to sleep in a hairdo that would create curls. I could only pull some hair back with braids and twists and leave my bangs on my forehead. It was a mess without a decent mirror on hand, but I managed.

I had no cute clothes. Attracting attention was something I had not aspired for. And that meant, for my date, I was left with an oversized sweater I had stolen from a department store and a pair of leggings. The cheap runners on my feet made me look like I was going to an early morning college class instead of on my first date in years.

I debated not going on the date. How could I show up looking like this? But then, I thought about the way he had asked me out, throwing it out there like it meant nothing because he thought I wouldn't show up. Again.

I hopped in Eddy's car and drove to his pack without another thought.

As promised, no one tailed me on the way in. In the light, it was easier to navigate the streets. I craned my neck, looking around for the landmarks I was coming to know. One turn of the wheel and I saw Easton outside, tinkering with his Toyota truck.

I pulled up beside him and when his head lifted and he saw the SUV, his face broke into his beautiful smile. Finally, his eyes sparkled again, in the way that made me believe that he was always having a little more fun than everyone else. It was like there never had been any doubt in the first place.

"You decided to show up!" Easton exclaimed. 

"It would seem so," I said, slipping out of the car.

His brilliant grin was the only thing keeping me from driving away when I saw how damn handsome he looked in his open button up shirt, slim fit black tee shirt, and clean jeans. It was enough to make me a little weak in the knees.

And thinking about what he had confessed to his friends, I decided to be as bold as I had ever been. "You're making me feel undressed. You look so cute."

Red coated his cheeks and his eyes darted to my face, mouth open like he was in shock. And it only made him cuter.

"Sorry, is handsome a more masculine term of endearment?" I teased, moving towards him. My fingers automatically curled around his open button up shirt, pulling him towards me. He stumbled a step like he was drunk, his eyes wide and locked solely on my mouth. 

"You think I'm cute?" he whispered, now searching my face as if he was looking for signs I was lying.

"Of course I do," I assured, half wondering how I was so close to touching a werewolf and encourage his affection without being terrified. 

Easton leaned over me, his teeth capturing his lower lip for a split second before swallowed hard. Self control came in like a low sweep, shoving away the adoration that had painted his cheeks and affected his mind. He cleared his throat and my hands dropped.

Had he been about to kiss me? 

And, had I wanted it?

"So you trusted me enough to come out here on my land again, but do you trust me enough to hop in my truck and take you on a proper date?"

"Yes. Let's go."

~~~Distraction Section~~~

Not the scheduled update day, but why not toss in an extra? Hope you enjoyed it! See you all tomorrow.

Question of the Day: Walk me through your dream date.