Hannah
Noah scowled as he stared down at my phone, the message from Drake still displayed on the screen. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head, a muscle in his jaw ticking ever so slightly.
I knew what this was: he was jealous.
“Well, well,” I couldn’t resist teasing, standing and turning to face him with my hands on my hips. “Is the big bad Alpha feeling a little territorial?”
He bristled at that, his nostrils flaring. “This has nothing to do with being territorial,” he bit out. “I’m just concerned that Drake might be up to no good.”
“Up to no good?” I echoed with a derisive snort. “What, you think he’s plotting some nefarious scheme by asking me to lunch?”
“You know how things get twisted around here,” Noah insisted, raking a hand through his tous
