9. Mylo

CHAPTER NINE

MYLO

To go or not to go?

Who are you kidding? an annoying voice mocked.

Of course, I was going. There wasn't a damn thing that could've kept me away—not after Holden invited me. Not after that look he gave me.

The look you think he gave you!

There was something about that alpha, something magnetic, that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fight it. Something I couldn't resist, no matter how many times my brain screamed at me to stay away—because everything always ended badly in my case.

If it ends badly, you have no one to blame but yourself.

I snorted. Fair point. Holden was the definition of unavailable. If there was ever an alpha with a neon "keep your distance" sign flashing above his head, it was him. Although, I could swear that, every now and then, that sign flickered off—and for a brief moment, he seemed... different. Warmer. Like there was something there. Like he wanted me to try.

Or it could be your imagination.

Maybe. But that didn't change the fact that I was going.

Because you're a glutton for punishment, apparently.

I blew out a breath, standing in front of the mirror, checking my reflection for what felt like the hundredth time. It's not a date. I'd reminded myself of that repeatedly as I fixed my hair and adjusted my shirt. But still, the thought of being around him made my pulse race in a way no amount of reasoning could fix.

So yeah, I was going to a bourbon tasting. I didn't even know bourbon tastings were a thing before I got the invite. Then again, if wine tastings were a thing, why not bourbon? Still, it was obviously going to be a fancy event. I knew the resort hosted plenty of rich guests, so I bet the bourbon would be high-end stuff—definitely not my scene. But if Holden invited me? There was no way I was sitting this out.

Even though I'd never touched bourbon outside of a recipe for marinade, sauce, or glaze.

Still, I wasn't going to pass up the chance to maybe—just maybe—figure him out.

Yeah, that's what you want to do. Just figure him out.

When I arrived at the lounge, the place was already full of people—the kind of crowd who looked like they could tell the age of the bourbon by sniffing it. I immediately felt like the poor relative crashing a wedding.

Also… does bourbon even have an age? Or was that just a wine thing?

You so shouldn't be here.

So why didn't I turn around?

Instead, I scanned the room, looking for him. I didn't spot Holden right away but instead saw Sarah's wife—Indigo—standing off to the side, talking to another guest.

I made my way over since she was the only person I technically knew, even though we hadn't actually met. I tried to blend in, but thankfully, Indigo noticed me before I got to her and made an ass of myself. Her eyes lit up as she recognized me.

"Mylo, right?" she greeted me with a warm smile, her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

"That's me," I nodded, feeling a little—okay, a lot—out of place but very grateful for the friendly face.

"Glad you made it," she said, stepping closer. "Sarah mentioned you might be coming and ordered me to watch out for you. You're in for a treat. This tasting has some of the best bourbons you'll find."

I managed a small smile, even though my stomach was now host to a bunch of butterflies. "Don't think I've ever had bourbon before, but I'll give it a shot."

Indigo chuckled, linking our arms like we'd been friends forever. "That's the spirit. Trust me, you'll do fine. Just pace yourself—it's all about tasting, not drinking."

"There's a difference?" I asked, and she burst out laughing.

"You're funny. I see why my wife likes you."

I wasn't trying to be funny, but if that was where we landed, well... okay.

I looked around the room and spotted a couple of other men who looked vaguely familiar, and then it clicked—Bishop and Knox, Holden and Indigo's brothers. I'd seen them around the resort but hadn't actually met them yet. You could see the family resemblance, but while all the alphas could definitely be described as handsome, Holden had this intense, brooding thing going on. His brothers, on the other hand, seemed... softer, maybe. More approachable.

Bishop gave off a nerdy, handsome vibe—like the kind of guy who was probably the smartest person in the room but way too polite to ever say it out loud. He must've noticed me looking because he gave me a small wave, his kind eyes bright behind his glasses.

I felt my cheeks flush but managed a wave back.

Knox, on the other hand, looked more reserved—maybe even a little anxious—but there was a kindness in his expression that made me think we could be friends. He didn't wave, just gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment, but it felt welcoming all the same.

Indigo must have noticed. "Have you met Bishop and Knox?"

I shook my head. "No, but I've seen them around."

"Come on, I'll introduce you."

We walked over, Indigo greeting a couple of people along the way before we reached Bishop and Knox.

"Knox, Bish, this is Mylo," Indigo said.

I could swear there was an extra inflection on my name. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. Just say hi.

"Hi, nice to meet you guys," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I joined their small circle.

"Likewise," Bishop replied, his smile genuine. "You're working in the kitchen, right? Sarah's mentioned you a couple of times. Said you're catching on quickly."

I shrugged, even as I felt a blush creep up my neck. "I'm trying my best. Sarah's a really good teacher."

"She is," Indigo chimed in. "But don't let her fool you. She can be tough when she wants to be."

I chuckled at that, nodding in agreement. "Trust me, I've noticed."

As the evening went on, I found myself actually relaxing a little. Even though Holden still hadn't shown up, being around his family made me feel more at ease. Indigo hadn't left my side since I arrived, thankfully, because I had no idea what kind of conversation to have with anyone else in the room.

I didn't have to find out, though, because Holden's siblings were so welcoming, and they were way easier to talk to than the moody alpha who had still managed not to show up.

Was I getting stood up at a non-date thing? Ugh, of course.

Still, it was hard not to feel a little jealous of Holden. It was easy to see that he had a big, loving family—the kind of family I'd always wished for but never had.

And don't get any ideas... these ones aren't yours and never will be.

The snide but timely reminder had me wanting to duck out. But just as I was about to, the tasting finally started.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but I quickly realized this was way more serious than I'd thought. It started with small pours of bourbon being handed out, and I watched as people swirled, sniffed, and sipped before casually spitting the bourbon into small buckets placed around the room.

Spit it out? Okay, I definitely hadn't seen that coming.

And seriously—who the hell spits out perfectly good bourbon?

And it was actually not bad. So yeah, nope. Not happening. No spitting here.

I'd been raised on the waste not, want not motto.

And from the information given out on most of these samples, I could tell they were way out of my price range. So, I drank every single drop of my samples. It was probably a bad idea because it didn't take long to feel the warmth of the bourbon settle into my stomach.

It was nice. Actually, more than nice—it was smooth, rich, like liquid fire that made everything feel a little softer around the edges. By the fourth or fifth sample, I stopped counting. The room took on this warm, fuzzy glow, and I felt the weight of the past few weeks lifting off my shoulders.

I knew it hadn't really—not deep down. But feeling good for a few hours sounded like a nice idea.

Maybe it was the bourbon, or maybe it was the fact that I'd spent so much time around Holden's family tonight, and they'd been so nice. And somehow, that kindness made me feel even lonelier. The sadness hit me out of nowhere. The loneliness. Everyone here was so damn close, so damn comfortable with each other, and I was just... me. The outsider. The guy who didn't really belong anywhere.

I downed another glass, and by the time the tasting was over, I was smashed.

Like... absolutely smashed.

And it was great!

I stumbled as I stood up, and before I knew it, Holden was right there, his large hand steadying me.

"Whoa," he murmured, his brow furrowed as he looked me over. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I slurred, waving him off with a weak attempt at a smile. "More than fine. You're the one who's not fine. Or maybe you are. I don't know. I can't figure you out."

Holden raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "You've had too much to drink."

"No shit," I muttered, wobbling slightly on my feet. "But you know what? I don't care."

He sighed, wrapping an arm around my waist as he started guiding me toward the exit. "Come on. Let's get you back to your room."

"You don't have to be nice to me, you know," I rambled as we walked. Or maybe he was doing most of the walking while I stumbled along. "I know you don't... want me. You invited me tonight and didn't even show up. So rude."

Holden's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, just kept steering me through the hallway.

"I'm serious," I continued, my drunken brain deciding that now was the perfect time to let it all out. "I know I'm not... I'm not like you. I'm not strong, or... or important. You're this big, important alpha. I'm just... me. Charles didn't want me either, you know? And he wasn't even close to being as... alpha-y as you."

At the mention of Charles, I could swear I heard Holden growl low in his throat, but in my drunken state, I barely registered it. If anything, it sounded like a purr.

"But it's fine," I babbled, my words slurring together. "I don't expect you to mate me or anything. I'm not stupid. I get it. But... I mean... if you wanted to... I wouldn't say no. To like... you know... ravaging me during my next heat or something."

Holden stopped dead in his tracks, his grip on me tightening as he let out a frustrated sigh. "Mylo," he said, his voice deeper than I'd ever heard it, "you're drunk."

"No shit, Sherlock," I muttered, barely able to keep my eyes open. "But I'm also serious. You could have me. If you wanted."

I didn't get a response to that. Instead, I found myself being lifted into strong arms.

"Ooo, strong alpha," I sighed, rubbing against his back.

His grip on me was firm but careful—or at least that's how it felt, because I was barely conscious by the time we reached my room. I vaguely registered the feeling of being lowered into bed. His hands were gentle as he tucked the covers around me, and I could've sworn I heard him mutter, "Goddess help me," under his breath.

I could swear I also got a kiss on my forehead before he left.

Then again, I could have imagined it.

Because no way in hell would a guy like Holden—this strong, silent, brooding, and so damn hot alpha—actually care about someone like me.

Right?