The Alpha Meets The Rogue (Alternate Reality--High School)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

“Dylan…”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, slamming the door shut after him.

“I, just, I, the pack—you want to claim me,” I blurted out.

Dylan cocked an eyebrow, and crossed his arms over his chest, no doubt trying to intimidate me. It was working. I was caught. My face was warm, and I could hear my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

“I hardly know anything about Midnight Moon,” I said.

“You’re sneaking around in my father’s office,” Dylan stated, calmly, but frowning.

“You want me to live here?” I asked, nervously.

“I want you with me.”

“I’m looking around,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Looking around in here?”

“I wanted to look around. I’m curious, so?” I said, trying to sound casual. It felt forced and it looked like he didn’t believe me.

“I’m going to ask again, Leila. I want the truth this time.”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

“I can hear your heartbeat. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights when I walked in. You really expect me to believe you were looking around?”

“You’re calling me a liar?” I asked, turning the spotlight back to him. Still, my face felt even warmer. The blush, had no doubt, deepened.

“I don’t know. How about you tell me,” Dylan said, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I was curious, Dylan,” I spoke through gritted teeth. My voice sounded shaky and nervous. I could hear it, he could see it, and it was making things worse.

“Why do you have those in your hands?” he asked, nodding down at all the things I had taken out about Midnight Moon.

I didn’t have a good excuse for that. I had been sneaking around. We both knew that. It would have gone down easier for me if I hadn’t been holding really important information about Midnight Moon in my hands.

“I like to know stuff,” I shrugged.

“You couldn’t ask me?”

“Would you tell me?”

“I’m not sure. Right now, I’m not sure about a lot of things. I want an explanation. All you are doing is making me feel more suspicious about what was going on.”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You are trying to distract me, Leila. And damn you, you’re good at it,” he growled.

I glared at him. His words bothered me. I didn’t like how he had phrased that accusation, and I especially didn’t like the way he was looking at me. I deserved it, and I was lying. It still hurt.

“You’re getting angry over nothing, Dylan. I’m here, okay. I was looking around, that was it!” I said, defensively.

“I need an explanation, now. You don’t give me one, and I’m talking about a damn good explanation that satisfies me, you’ll see how angry I can get,” he said, his voice low but threatening.

It was the second time that day we were interrupted by Dylan’s parents. We both heard them walking into the house, speaking loudly about something that had happened while they’d been out.