Page 3 of The Alpha’s Runaway Mate (Evermore Hollow #1)

THREE

JESSICA

The rest of the afternoon feels off. My nerves are shot, and my body’s humming like I downed three energy drinks and chased them with bad decisions. Every time I blink, I see Nolan. The hard cut of his jaw. The rough growl in his voice when he said my name like it already belonged to him.

I’ve replayed those five minutes in that dark bar so many times it’s starting to feel like a fever dream.

His face. The smell of smoke and whiskey clinging to him.

The weight of his stare that pinned me to the floor like gravity itself decided I was staying put.

I’ve never been this drawn to anyone. Not ever.

It’s terrifying. I don’t believe in love at first sight.

Hell, I don’t even believe in like at first sight.

But whatever this is? It’s not normal. It’s too much, too fast, too everything.

If this isn’t love, then what the hell is it?

I shouldn’t even be thinking about him. I live in a tent.

My bank account is nonexistent. My psycho ex is probably still creeping through the woods pretending he’s Jason Bourne.

I’m a walking red flag. Knowing all that doesn’t stop me from putting on my best jeans, the ones that make my ass look borderline illegal, and a black top so tight it could be classified as a safety hazard.

I tell myself to change. I don’t. I want him to see me. Really see me.

By the time I slide behind the wheel of my truck, my heart’s already racing like it’s training for a marathon.

I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror in my truck.

“Normal girls don’t do this,” I mutter. But I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to.

I’m being pulled there by a tether I don’t understand, but can’t deny.

Every mile closer to Snarl feels like I’m driving toward something I can’t name but already need.

Eight felt too damn late. What kind of bar starts a new hire that late, anyway? I tell myself I’m just being responsible, showing initiative, coming early for paperwork, but the truth burns in my chest. I just want to see him again.

Snarl’s lot glows under string lights that hang like fireflies trapped in glass. The gravel crunches under my boots as I step out. The place is alive tonight, humming with sound and energy.

The second I open my door, the music hits me.

Bluesy, slow, thick with bass. Laughter rolls across the lot.

Voices, deep and rough. But beneath it all, there’s something else.

Something that vibrates through the air, steady and low, like a pulse.

By the time I reach the door, my hands are slick with sweat.

Every step closer sends sparks racing up my legs.

My body’s in overdrive. My heart can’t decide if it’s terrified or turned on.

I should leave. Everything logical in me screams it.

But logic’s been losing this fight since the moment he looked at me.

I can feel him before I even touch the door.

Like my soul already knows where he is. The air thickens as my hand hits the handle.

The wood’s warm, alive, almost. Just as I take a breath, the door swings open. And there he is.

Nolan fills the doorway like he’s been waiting for me.

His bright blue eyes catch the light and burn electric.

He looks me over slow, painfully slow, and the heat that follows makes my whole body light up.

“You’re early,” he says, voice low and rough.

His gaze drags down to my shirt and back up again, and I swear I can feel it like a touch.

“Eight felt too late,” I murmur, caught in his stare. Were his eyes this blue earlier?

His mouth curves into that dangerous grin that should come with a warning label. “Come on.”

He holds out his hand. I shouldn’t take it.

He’s technically my new boss. But the second my palm touches his, something inside me explodes.

Heat shoots up my arm and wraps around my spine.

My knees almost give out. Every nerve ending in my body wakes up at once.

The world narrows to him, his scent, his heat, his presence.

The pull between us hums, sharp and alive. What the hell is happening to me?

He leads me through the crowd, and it’s like the whole bar takes notice. Conversations dip. Heads turn. I can feel eyes on us, but all I see is him. The smell of pine and smoke trails behind him, and I breathe it in like oxygen. When he drops my hand, I almost groan.

He whistles once, sharp and commanding, and the room stills. “This is Jessica,” he says, voice carrying like a growl through the noise. “She’s behind the bar tonight. She’s off-limits. You got a problem with that, you can get the fuck out.”

The words hit me like a spark to gasoline. Possessive. Protective. Hot enough to fry every brain cell I have left. He leads me down a short hall to a cluttered office that smells like leather, wood, and him. I’d bottle that scent if I could.

“You can keep your bag in here,” he says, pulling open a drawer.

“Thanks,” I manage, handing it over even though my hands are trembling.

He talks about hours, pay, and how things work around here, but I barely hear a word. His voice wraps around me, deep and smooth, and I swear it vibrates straight through my bones. Every time he steps closer, my lungs forget their job.

He finishes by telling me not to leave the bar without him. The way he says it sends a rush of goosebumps down my neck.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”

Back in the main room, the music’s heavier. Bass rolls through the floor like thunder. The air’s thick with something wild, like the whole room’s teetering on the edge of losing control.

The crowd looks human at first glance. But not if you really look. Some move too fluidly. Some too still. Their eyes catch the light in colors that don’t exist on normal people. At the pool table, a guy smirks at me, and for a heartbeat, his eyes flash gold. I blink. They’re normal again.

Nolan brushes past me, his arm grazing mine, and my whole body lights up like a live wire. “Stick close,” he murmurs.

“You act like someone’s gonna bite me.”

His eyes flick to mine, serious. “That’s what I’m trying to prevent.”

I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “You’re joking, right?”

He doesn’t answer.

A chill slides down my spine, right before heat floods through me again. I’m a mess.

He hands me a towel and shows me the basics, where the bottles are, how he likes things organized, but none of it sticks. My pulse won’t settle. Every time he moves, I feel it. I throw myself into work to distract my brain. Pour drinks. Take cash. Pretend I’m not vibrating with every breath.

A guy with pale eyes down the bar reaches for his drink and lets his fingers brush mine. The touch burns, bright and fast, like static that sinks under my skin. I jerk back with a hiss, but he just smiles, slow and deliberate, like he’s been waiting for me to notice him.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he says, voice low and smooth as smoke.

Before I can answer, he leans closer, and that’s when I see them. His tongue drags lazily along his teeth, no, not teeth. Fangs. Long, pointed fangs that catch the light.

What the actual hell?

My breath stutters. Something in his eyes catches mine, silver and endless, swirling like storm clouds, and suddenly my thoughts don’t feel like my own. The noise of the bar fades. The world narrows to him and that voice.

“You want to come sit next to me,” he murmurs, each word wrapping around me like silk. “Let me feed from you.”

The words slip under my skin, heady and hypnotic.

My muscles go slack. I actually start to move.

Then there’s heat at my back. A wall of it.

Nolan. His hand catches my arm, grounding me so hard the haze snaps.

My pulse lurches, and the man’s smirk falters right before Nolan’s voice rips through the air.

“She’s fucking off-limits, asshole,” he snarls, low and lethal. “And you know glamor’s banned in here. Taking advantage of someone new? Get the fuck out before I break your jaw.”

The words vibrate through the floor. The vampire, because what else could he be?

Recoils, hands lifting in a mock surrender, but there’s fear in his eyes now.

The rest of the bar glances up, bored curiosity passing over the crowd, and then they go right back to their drinks and conversations like this isn’t anything new.

Like near-death encounters are just part of the vibe here.

The vamp stands, movements sharp now, his charm long gone. He mutters something under his breath and stalks for the door. The second he’s gone, the pull I felt, whatever strange, magnetic thing that crawled under my skin, evaporates.

I sag back against Nolan without meaning to. “Jesus,” I whisper. “That was… intense.”

“Yeah,” he growls, still watching the door like he’s ready to tear it off its hinges. “That’s what happens when vamps get bored. You okay?”

“I think so.” My voice shakes. “He just, looked at me, and I, ”

“I know,” Nolan says, his tone softer now. “They’re predators. They can push their will if you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

I swallow hard, heart still racing. “So that’s what that was? Glamor?”

“Yeah. Don’t blame yourself. It works on most people.” His gaze flicks to mine, sharp but full of something that almost feels like pride. “But you didn’t fall for it. You fought it.”

I huff a laugh, shaky and half-dazed. “Pretty sure you did most of the fighting.”

He smirks, the edge finally easing from his shoulders. “Maybe. But next time, Sweetheart, don’t let anyone touch you unless it’s me.”

The warning in his voice sends a shiver right down my spine. His gaze catches mine again, and the space between us goes molten.

Hours blur. Drinks. Music. Heat. Stares. The energy in the room builds, pressing against my skin. Every time Nolan’s near, that pull between us gets stronger, heavier.

By eleven, the atmosphere changes. The laughter’s sharper. The air feels charged, like the seconds before a storm.

“Busy night?” I ask.

“Full moon tomorrow,” he says, jaw tight.

“And that means what, exactly?” I look around.

“Rowdy customers.”

Before I can push, a chair crashes near the pool table and a deep growl rumbles through the bar, low and animal. My entire body locks up. Nolan’s gone before I can blink. One look from him and the sound dies instantly. When he comes back, I whisper, “What did you say to them?”

He smirks. “Told them to play nice.”

“You’ve got one hell of a presence,” I murmur.

He leans in close, breath hot against my ear. “You’ve got no idea.”

My knees threaten to quit on me. I’m half convinced he’s some kind of drug, because I can’t get enough.

By midnight, I’m wrecked. My pulse hasn’t slowed in hours. Every part of me aches for something I don’t understand. The only thing keeping me grounded is him, his voice, his nearness, the rough warmth in his gaze.

When he tells me to clock out, I don’t argue. He presses a wad of cash into my hand, and our fingers brush. The heat flares back, wild and dizzying. His eyes darken like he feels it too. “Good job tonight,” he says softly.

“Thanks,” I whisper, even though every part of me wants to stay.

He walks me out, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his body. The crowd parts for him without a word.

“Drive straight back,” he says, voice quiet but serious. “Don’t stop for anything. If you see or hear something in the woods, keep driving.”

I try to laugh it off. “You’re kind of dramatic, you know that?”

He doesn’t smile. “Promise me, Jessica.”

My throat tightens. “Okay. I promise.”

Outside, the night’s cool, but I’m burning from the inside out. The string lights glow gold behind me, and I swear I can still feel his heat against my skin.

As I drive away, the bar fades in my rearview, but the buzz under my skin doesn’t. My hands tremble on the wheel.

Something moves in the trees beside the road, fast, too fast. Big. My heart lurches. I slam my foot on the gas.

Whatever this town is, whatever he is, I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross. And God help me, I don’t think I want to.