Chapter Twenty | Love At First Bite

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I think I yawned approximately thirty-seven and a half times. The half because I went to yawn in the middle of Matteo's sentence, and he practically strangled me with his beautiful, navy blue eyeballs. Yep, exactly how I want to die. I quickly stifled my yawn and poorly covered it up with a cough. It ultimately sounded like I was choking on a lung.

I don't think anyone was happier than I was to hear Barron call the meeting to a close and excuse us for lunch.

I got a lot of weird and disapproving looks when I exasperatedly shouted 'finally!'. I didn't mind, though. Adrian wasn't here, and I couldn't be happier. I also wanted to get the heck out of the alpha-infested room that I'd been trapped in for hours. Obviously, I hadn't thought any of this through when I had forced Matteo to bring me to this. I was about to do a hop, skip, and a jump out of the room for a fancy hotel spaghetti platter, but Matteo anchored me inside of the room by latching his hand firmly around my wrist. I turned to him, gaping like a fish, when he shut me down.

"We leave last," he stated. I'd never wanted to groan, scream, and cry so much at one time. Apparently, leaving last showed some sort of dominance and authority that I didn't really care about. That wasn't the case for Matteo, though. His Alpha ego was all about his pride and ascendency.

Barron, being the prick of the century that he is, decided to stay back and have a conversation with a few Alphas. The cocky douchebag kept sneaking me smug glances as I glared daggers at him. He knew how much I didn't want to be here any longer. Being around so many Alphas at once had my nerves up a lot more than I had anticipated. Lashing out was my way of coping with it. I just wanted to leave. I was seriously hoping that if I glared long enough that Barron might combust. Eventually, Matteo let me leave after I started snarling.

I just wanted my damn spaghetti.

By the time I was able to leave the conference room, there was not a hint of spaghetti left in the dining hall. Instead, I had to settle for a ham and cheese sandwich. Yeah, a ham and cheese sandwich.

I was settled back into our room for about five minutes before Matteo barged in. I greeted him with a simple 'hey'. I expected something in return, anything. I didn't get a single response—not a 'hello', or a 'stop eating on the bed', or even a grunt. He just completely ignored me.

I then went on to offer him the crust of my sandwich that I didn't really want to eat as a peace offering. He responded by asking me 'how childish could you possibly be?' To that, I told him that if he didn't want the crust then he could have just said no, but Matteo wasn't talking about my crust.

Oh, no.

Instead, we got into a heated argument about how my behavior during the meeting was admittedly immature which concluded with me storming out of the room and slamming the door behind me. It wasn't a surprise to me by this point. We fight about everything all the time. If we didn't have an argument while we were here, I would have probably died from shock.

That's how I ended up in my current situation.

I'll admit, I do some not-so-smart things when I get a bit ticked whether I'm in the wrong or not. In this case, my infantile ass was definitely in the wrong.

"Kaia," a masculine voice floated to my ears as a warm hand lightly shook my arm. I groaned and jerked my arm away. "Kaia," he repeated.

"What?" I grunted tiredly. My body was sore, and I had a mild headache. I could already feel the hand returning to my skin. As an immediate reaction, my eyes popped open, and my hand shot out to catch the man's wrist before it could make contact with my arm again. I was met with a familiar pair of brown eyes.

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