Alpha Jax

5

Quinn

I look up from the pint glass I'm filling from the tap, my heart stuttering as a tall blonde guy walks into the brewery.

Not him.

Damnit. I've had the same reaction every time a hot blonde guy has strolled through the doors of Cedar Ridge Brewery over the past week. That one-night stand with 'sexy stranger', as I've been referring to him, totally fucked me up; my head's all over the place. Part of me is dying to run into him again, yet I'm slightly terrified that if I do, seeing each other in the light of day might ruin the well-preserved fantasy. And right now I'm living for the memory of that night- it has been my go-to fantasy since.

I'll never forget his face, or the way he touched me, or how all that hard muscle felt underneath my palms. Not to mention the intensity of his gaze as I came undone beneath him. Clay who? That jerk is like a distant memory now. He never touched me like my sexy stranger did, never made my body come alive like that. Clay's a boy; that guy was all man.

I jerk, startled, as I feel cold liquid hit my wrist. "Shit," I hiss, pushing the tap back to stop the flow of the beer spilling out of the pint glass and onto my hand.

"What's distracting you today?" Kyla asks teasingly, approaching me and tossing a bar towel my way.

I spill a little bit of the overflowing beer from the glass into the drain under the tap, picking up the towel and wiping off the pint glass before setting it down. "I'm not distracted," I lie, wiping my hands.

I glance up at Kyla and she's got her hands on her hips, staring me down. We both know I'm full of shit.

I finish drying my hands and fling the damp towel in her direction. She snatches it out of the air, using the same hand to point a finger at me. "Just tell me it isn't Clay."

"It's not Clay!" I sigh exasperatedly. "I told you before, your little mission totally worked. I'm over that jerk."

"Then what is it?" she asks, narrowing her eyes.

I don't want to admit that I'm done obsessing over how things ended with Clay because I've moved on to obsessing over sexy stranger instead, so I go with a deflection.

"If you must know," I begin, blowing out a breath, "one of my friends stopped by yesterday to ask if I'd consider joining the IT unit at the squad."

"And?" Kyla steps closer, her interest piqued.

I shrug, twirling a strand of hair around a finger. "And I'm considering it, I guess."

Kyla's eyebrows shoot up.

I swallow, continuing. "I mean, I was interested in going out for the squad after high school, but I put everything on hold because Clay asked me to stick around. And now that we're over... well, it kinda seems like the perfect opportunity to get away from it all, right? To start over?"

"So what's there to consider?" Kyla laughs, folding her arms across her chest. "It sounds like you've already made up your mind."

"I don't know," I sigh. "I don't think my dad would be a fan of me moving out, for one. It's just the two of us at the packhouse."

Kyla nods sympathetically. I told her a while ago about how my mom died in an accident when I was eight, and now every time I allude to it just being me and my dad, she just gets this sad look in her eyes. I know she means well, but I also kinda hate the look of pity. I've been getting that same look for the past ten years every time someone mentions my mom, and honestly, it has tainted her memory a little bit. I don't want to be sad when I think about her- I want to think of how joyful and vibrant and loving she was.