Eight Steps to Alpha
Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Elliot Prescott has one question for his ultra-nerdy roommate and best friend, Fe Porto.
Why can’t he get the girl?
And she has an answer for him. Or maybe eight.
With five years of best-friend hood under their belt, they’re about to embark in the project of a lifetime.
To make Elliot alpha.
The only catch? They have just four weeks to turn the video game loving Elliot, into a cocky, sexy, tattoo clad beast Fe has read about in her romance novels.
Can they do it? Or will the flitter of love that’s been brewing under the surface finally get the kindling it’s been longing for?
He brushed Fe’s hair back from her forehead, hating the fact she was in so much pain. She was so tough, so rough and tumble, that seeing her vulnerable like this made all his protective instincts want to throw the tattoo guy against the wall.
Tattoo guy, who was apparently paying attention now, lifted his needle, and looked up at Fe. “Want me to stop?”
“No,” she stated without hesitation. “I can’t go through life with only half of a heart.”
Her voice was dramatic, yet so determined, Elliot almost laughed. Almost.
This was ridiculous. But he had to admit, she was as endearing as hell.
Tattoo guy lifted his shoulders to Elliot, as if saying “I’m doing what the lady wants, bro.” Then lowered the needle again, and got back to work.
Fe closed her eyes with the next stroke, which honestly made things more bearable for both of them. But when she opened them a few minutes later, they were glassy with tears, as though she was about to cry. “Elliot, if for some reason I don’t make it through this—"
Not able to hold it in any longer, he chuckled, then leaned forward and squeezed her hand. He lowered his face until they became level, and looked her in the eye. “You’ll make it through, okay. Look at me. Take a deep breath.”
She did as he said, then nodded slowly.
“There you go. Nice and easy. In and out. Good girl.”
Her skin started to pinken up a little, and her fingers eased from her death grip around his thumb.
“Tell me a story,” he said in a soft voice.
“Yes.” He nodded. “About anything.”
“Elliot, I’m getting a tattoo, I can’t tell you a story.”
About the Author:
Taylor is mom of three young (or not so young) children she loves more than life. She runs them around endlessly, hoping she looks presentable enough to be out in public, and day dreams about fictional characters. Maybe she's crazy, or maybe she craves the barbie games she played as a little girl a little too much, but that's where her stories are born. It's where they blossom, and grow, and eventually breath life on the page of her stories.
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