Shirley
Keith’s tone makes me feel as though I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t have. Like I’m a teenager who just snuck in after fooling around with my boyfriend all night. I pause in the doorway as I stare at him, studying how his solid features are held tight.
I can already tell Keith is ready to pick a fight, which causes a sudden annoyance to begin to trickle into my veins.
“Why does it matter?” I ask him.
“Warren can drive you home,” Keith tosses back.
“It’s two in the morning,” I counter. “I didn’t want to bug him.”
“That’s what he’s there for,” the Alpha states. “That’s his job.”
In turn, I huff. “Well, excuse me for trying to be polite.”
But Keith doesn’t care. He’s too wound up as he stands from where he’s seated.
“Your ‘polit
