A Rogue For Four Alphas

Chapter Fifty Five

The next night, I'm filled with hope, thinking there's a good chance the four men will return to the coffe shop. They do not.

It's a short ride home, but I spend it listening to a blues stream, singing along with the mournful music and feeling the exquisite pain of wanting something I won't even let myself have.

I wonder if Erik is still listening to the blues.

To rub more salt in my wounds, I go to the bookstore in Whitman. One of my favorite authors has a new release, but my mind is filled with thoughts of Ian. I remember meeting him, excited about the prospect of one night with him, and now I can't get him out of my head.

Or my heart.

I stop at an oceanside park on my way home, planning to treat myself to some reading time, but I can't get into the story, and I'm sure it's not the author's fault.

I think about how I read that erotic scene tolan, and then he and the others brought it to life. When will I ever experience something as amazing as that again?

My heart started pounding as soon as I see them two weeks later back to the coffee shop it feels like forever, and before I can think better of it, I shamelessly rush over to them. "Hi," I say, sounding clever and brilliant.

A smile tugs at one corner of Khalil's mouth and all four men chorus greetings

"Are you here to see my Boss?" I ask.

"Nope," Damon says. "Just here to have a drink."

My brows lift, and my heart soars. They're cleaned up like last time. It's not like they wandered in here after work, and it's not as if this is their neighborhood bar. They came out of their way, and surely I must be the reason. Right? "It's been boring at home lately," Ian explains. "Is that so?"

"We've gotten tired of beating each other at darts," Erik says, making Ian and I laugh.

"What would you like to drink? Same as last time?"

They agree and head to a table, while I go to the bar, feeling like I'm floating on air. But why?

I'm ridiculously happy to see them, but it doesn't change anything, does it? Sure, I'd love to see even more of them, and maybe spend a night at their house occasionally, but that's a really bad idea.

Talk about a slippery slope. I've apparently fallen for them without meaning to, and getting together with them again will only make it worse.

And somehow while missing them, I've conveniently been forgetting about how Damon and Erik, and to a lesser extent,Ian, tried to tell me when to do. Maybe I blew up about it a little too hard, but that issue hasn't changed.

But then I return to their table, drinks in hand, and see how handsome they are, and how much I miss their faces, and I see their arms and remember how good it felt to be in them.

I need to dunk my head in the ice bin.

"Everything still going okay with you?" Damon asks

.

Another question I can't possibly answer honestly, though he's probably just worried that my mother might be harassing me again.

"Everything's fine," I say. "What's new with all of you?"

"The expansion's going well and we are almost done marking this territory," Ian says.

"You might not know, but we're on track to finish it in three weeks."

"That's great," I say, though it will mean losing one of the things that connects me to them. I'm sure they have other work lined up after this, most likely not on the island.

"We actually came in to see if you'd like to come over after work tonight," Ian says.

"Or some other night, if tonight doesn't work,"Damon adds, making me wonder who this new easygoing man is.

I'm so torn, I may as well be in two pieces, with one half of me ready to toss my apron on the table and run out to their truck right now. The half of me that's still thinking logically is setting off alarm bells about how dangerous spending the night with them would be how my heart is only going to get more involved, and how my body is only going to grow more addicted to their touch.

Cold turkey is absolutely the right approach, and I somehow manage to muster enough resolve to say, "I don't think I should."

I expect them to argue or at least, I expect Damon to argue - but none of them do. They look disappointed, but they don't necessarily seem surprised.

"Okay," Ian says, "but the invitation still stands, in case you change your mind."

"Okay." I take a step back from the table to try to break their pull on me. "I'll keep that in mind."

It will probably be all I think about.