A Is for Alpha Male (2 page)

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Authors: Laurel Curtis

BOOK: A Is for Alpha Male
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Not that I hadn’t gone on a few blind dates with old, fat guys of my own. Ugh. That was a memory lane I had no desire to drive down again.

Where were the Kristen Ashley alpha males? I wanted one. For each of us.

Kristen Ashley could write an alpha male like none other. They say you write what you know, and if that was the truth, I wanted a shot at Kristen’s inspiration.

Good God, she could write one hell of a man.

Picking up the Coke with extra ice I had already ordered her, my mom took a few sips, inhaling it like the drug it was to both of us. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as the cool liquid settled into the back of her throat and fed into her central nervous system.

Okay, it probably didn’t feed into her central nervous system directly, but it was just as important.

When she set her glass back down she looked pensive for a few seconds before looking up at me and stating, “We should go on vacation.”

Yes. Vacation sounded awesome. I could really use one. I nodded my head absently but jerked it to an abrupt halt when the idea hit me with the intensity of a Mack truck. “Yes, yes we should,” I said, a maniacal shimmer almost certainly in my eye.

We needed to go on a road trip. A road trip with a very specific purpose...finding our Kristen Ashley alpha males.

Oh. My. God.

We could travel, see different places, at least meet some
different,
boring men, and my mom and I would get to spend time together. It was a rare occasion that the two of us couldn’t find some fun.

And maybe some trouble.

This idea was sounding better with every thought I had.

On a high from stroking my already inflated ego, I snickered to myself, and my mom gave me a look that said I surely couldn’t be her daughter since I was acting like I was certifiably crazy.

If you asked me, that was one of the qualities that actually corroborated my DNA.

Confirming my thoughts she said, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a psycho. Laughing to yourself and quite frankly, scaring me.”

As I dug frantically in my purse for a piece of scrap paper and a pen, I tried to ease her nerves. “I know I look crazy. Just relax. I had the
best idea ever
.”

In reality, that kind of a statement from me probably just scared her more, but I didn’t bother trying to fix it.

I finally found a pen and piece of paper under all of the junk I kept in there and decided it was time to let her in on my inner monologue. “Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking. We
should
go on a vacation. We should go on a road trip.”

At that, she sat back with a huff, rolled her eyes, and explained, “I was thinking more along the lines of a tropical island. Bikinis. Beaches. Frozen daiquiris.”

Nodding my head at the reaction I had anticipated, I set out to explain. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But not just any road trip. We should call it ‘The Kristen Ashley Experience’.”

When she gave me a look, I hastened to add, “Or we can name it something less obvious like Allison and Haley’s Great Adventure. I even gave you top billing.”

She smiled a triumphant smile, and I took it as a sign that it was safe to continue. “The goal...to find our very own heroes of that caliber. We sure as hell aren’t finding them here.”

She looked a little scared but that didn’t stop her from murmuring, “Okay. I guess that could be kinda fun.”

After pausing for a few seconds and mulling over the idea in her head, she once again acted predictably. She wanted more information. “What’s the paper for?”

Allison was big on asking permission, while I was more of a beg-for-forgiveness type of girl.

I smiled, wagged my eyebrows, and replied, “Oh. We’re gonna make an alphabetical list of the qualities we’re looking for.”

“Huh?” she asked, her forehead acting as nothing but a highway for her climbing eyebrows. Clearly, I had confused her even more.

“Stick with me here,” I said slowly. So slowly, that my tone was mocking and would probably result in another smack to the head if I wasn’t careful. “We’re looking for our Kristen Ashley heroes, so we need to make a list of all the qualities they have that we love. Plus, if there are other qualities that you would consider must-have that aren’t in the books, those are fine too.” As even more apprehension radiated from her, I continued, “Don’t worry, I’ll start the list.”

I paused to scribble down the first letter and then showed her what I was talking about, turning the back of the old, scratch off lottery ticket (Don’t worry, it was a losing ticket) to face her and holding it within her reach.

She took it, read it to herself, and then voiced what I had written. “A is for alpha male?”

“You bet, Woman. You know we both need alphas,” I informed her with a heavy dose authority in my voice. “We want real men. Didn’t you learn your lesson from my anecdote about ole Jimmy boy last night?”

She nodded her head in surrender as I snatched the paper back out of her hand and continued the list, speaking aloud so that she could help me out. “B is for...”

She immediately jumped into the game, practically shouting, “Badass!”

“Yes! Absolutely,” I agreed. “By the way, I like your spunk, Mom.”

She smiled at me as I moved on. “C is for....Cool name.” Tapping the point of the pen on the paper as though it somehow gave more weight to my authority, I continued explaining, “I’m telling you, badasses have cool names. Tatum Jackson. Raiden Miller. Kane Allen. This is what we need. If I meet another Dan Smith, I might kill myself.”

Nodding frantically in agreement, my mom perched on the edge of her seat, eager to fill in the rest of our list.

Prompting her, I said, “D is for....” keeping my head pointed down and ready.

“Dangerous.”

I looked up from my paper and hit her with a mild glare, asking, “Dangerous?”

“Well, not
really
dangerous. Just a dangerous aura. Or the ability to be dangerous,” Allison attempted to explain.

Thinking about how I should interpret that I wrote down, “Dangerous...Kinda.”

“Okay, next. E is for...”

We both sat there for a solid minute trying to think of what E should be. I was nervous that my slightly attention deficit mind would start to wander, but thankfully, it finally came to me. “Experienced. But I say that with a star next to it. Only in the sense that his
previous
experience has given him the finesse we so desire in the bedroom.”

“Agreed,” she said, nodding her ascent.

“F is easy. F is for funny,” I stated in a tone that glaringly conveyed, “Yes, Haley. Absolutely, Haley,” was the only acceptable answer.

Nodding her head enthusiastically, my mom practically bounced in her seat. Being a fairly visual person, I accepted her nod and bounce as the nonverbal version of “Yes, Haley. Absolutely, Haley.”

Her exuberance was contagious, and even if it weren’t, I was feeling much the same way all on my own. The idea of finding these kind of men was thrilling. I knew finding them would be a lot harder than making a list, but a girl loves to dream.

“G is for gorgeous!” she screamed, eager to get to the next letter.

“Okay, G should definitely be gorgeous,” I placated before muttering to myself, “Just maybe not at that decibel.”

Unfortunately, she heard me anyway. “Watch it, sweet Haley. I gave birth to you, you know.”

“Trust me, I know. You’ve told me plenty of times over the years,
Allison
.”

A hint of a smile touched my mom’s lips as she shook her head slightly. Meanwhile, I kept right on talking.

“I don’t know what kind of a threat that is anyway. It’s already done; you already gave birth to me. Twenty-seven years ago, in fact. It’s not like if I don’t change my attitude you’re gonna shove me back up there.” I paused for a beat before looking directly at her and fearfully questioning, “Right?”

She looked at me like she not only thought I was disgusting, but now there was absolutely no question I was crazy. “Um, yeah. No thanks, I’ll pass on the shoving you back in. Coming out was bad enough, and you’re considerably bigger now.”

Gasping and putting my hand to my chest in mock affront, I said, “Are you trying to tell me I’m fat?”

“Haley, focus.”

I had always been a little bit all over the place like this, and no one knew how to get me back on track better than my mom. Hopefully I would find a nice alpha male who had no problem keeping me in check without suppressing my endearingly lighthearted ways in the same way that she managed to do it.

“Right. The list. Okay, so H is for...”

After a brief moment of brainstorming, we both answered at the same time with “Hard body.”

We burst into a fit of giggles, mine sounding only slightly less deranged than a hyena, and I managed to chortle out, “Hell yes. I like the way you think. All Kristen Ashley males have to have one kick ass body.”

My mom silenced her giggles quickly and moved on while I wrote down H, stating, “I is for Intelligent. Not necessarily book smarts, but you know, the intelligence that counts.”

I gave her a thumbs up sign because I couldn’t have agreed more and kept writing while questioning, “J is for?”

“Jocund?”

Looking up from the paper, I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t even know what that means. How about we stick to adjectives I know the meaning of.”

“Oh come on. You’re a writer and a voracious reader. Where the hell is your vocabulary?” Allison asked, accusation of my idiocy making her voice heavy with annoyance.

“Apparently it’s miles and miles away from the word ‘jocund’,” I half-explained, half-argued.

“Oh good grief, Haley. It means lighthearted,” she grumbled.

Choosing my words carefully, I pointed out, “I’m not sure that KA’s heroes are normally all that lighthearted. I mean, maybe a little, but they’re usually more on the intense side. Not to mention, I’m thinking the two of us will be lighthearted enough for both parties in our relationships. Let’s pick something else.”

She rolled her eyes but gave in to me. “Ughhhh, fine.”

Trying to appease her, I queried, “Would it make you feel better if we put ‘Jocund’ as a secondary, minor trait?”

She bobbed her head and answered unflaggingly with, “Yes. Yes it would.”

I inclined my head to the paper and went back to writing, an indication that she could consider it done.

“Okay, we can come back to J because I already know K. K is for kissing expert.”

Mom just nodded along, probably still feeling slightly miffed by my adjective rejection, and moved on to the next letter. “L is for loving.”

I didn’t even nod, because it went without saying that I agreed, before rolling right into the next letter. “M is for manly.”

 

 

That’s pretty much how it went for the next fifteen minutes until we had completed our list. We stumbled on a few letters, but eventually had everything just how we wanted it.

 

 

Allison found it particularly annoying that I decided “Junk” was a better choice than “Jocund”. However, when I asked her if she wanted him to have bad junk, she quickly shut up about it.

Now I was in my bedroom in my apartment trying to pack because we decided we should leave right away. I could take my work on the road (read: put it off until I got back) since I mostly just did freelance writing for different magazines and newspapers, and my mom had basically just told the doctor’s office she worked for that she was going and didn’t know for exactly how long.

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