Obsessed with alpha

I always knew my sister disliked me, but it wasn't until my eighteenth birthday that I realized just how deep her bitterness truly went.

Dad, our only living parent, lavished me with gifts. Across the room, my sister brooded in the shadows, sulking like a spoiled brat.

But nothing could spoil my happiness. Especially when Dad confirmed his friend and the man of my dreams, Damien, would be attending my birthday.

"Dad, you're spoiling Linda too much,"Erica whined, her face scrunched up like she'd just bitten into a rotten lemon. "You didn't celebrate my eighteenth like this. You weren't even in town!"

I tuned her out immediately, because I’ve heard this jealous statement countless times. I picked up the short, black gown I'd been saving for tonight—the one that hugged every curve like a second skin and left just enough to the imagination. I glanced at my reflection, admiring the way it revealed the entire length of my back.

My phone buzzed. It was Damien’s daughter, my best friend, confirming they were almost here.

Perfect.

My birthday was a cruel reminder of my mother's death as she'd died giving birth to me, and the anniversary always made this day hard. But for the first time, I was happy because Damien would be here.

Damien was many things to me: my dad's closest friend, my best friend's ridiculously attractive father, and my crush of the past two years.

From the day he and his daughter moved to town, he’d been the center of my attention—and pretty much everyone else’s too. It was like he walked in with a spotlight attached, turning heads left and right.

Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome, with that mysterious vibe. Every girl with a pulse practically drooled over him. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice me. No stolen glances, no casual smiles in my direction—nothing.

I was just another face in a crowd, and that stung more than I’d care to admit. The competition was fierce, and I was stuck on the sidelines. A classic case of one-sided love, and let me tell you, it sucked.

I’d picture him looking at me, actually seeing me, not just as his friend’s daughter but as a woman who loved him. In my mind, he’d flash that roguish smile, call me by name in that deep voice, maybe even brush my hair behind my ear like they do in the movies. But nope—real life wasn’t that generous.

No one knew about my feelings for Damien except my sister Erica, who had stubbornly read my journal. She threatened to report to Dad and I had to tone my obsession for Damien down.

"He's twenty years older than you, stupid. How are you not seeing that?"

Erica had no idea what it was like to be in love with someone you couldn't control your feelings for.

"All I want is for him to notice me as a woman, not a little girl."

"Are you out of your mind?" Erica bristled. "You're going to embarrass yourself, and when it blows up in your face, I'll be right there to tell you 'I told you so.' Mimi is your best friend. Do you honestly think she'll be okay with you dating her dad? If the roles were reversed, would you want her hooking up with our dad?”

I ignored Erica. She’d been riding the “I’m the older, wiser sister” wave for so long. But I was eighteen now, technically a full adult. What was so wrong with telling Damien how I felt? It wasn’t like I was breaking some law by having a crush—especially one as serious as this.

And if he didn’t like me back and ended up rejecting me, I’d live.

Sure, it might sting, but I could move on.

The party was in full swing, with music blaring and people dancing. My dad, ever the eccentric, was dancing around with my classmates, his long, scraggly hair flopping around his face like an old rock star.

Despite the fun atmosphere, I couldn't relax. I scanned the room, searching for Damien. He hadn't arrived yet, and without him, the whole party felt pointless.

The night dragged on. I kept my eyes glued to the driveway, waiting for that familiar black Range Rover to pull in.