"I need to find the number." Raking a hand through his hair, the dark crop teasing me, he continued. "I can Google the number for the bars he owns. Get them to give me his number that way, right?"

He asked, but it wasn't really a question. It was what we did. Clarke was still sporting the kicked puppy routine and refused to come with us, opting to chat the ear off of the woman that had shown us to our rooms. The same one that had refused to let me go with Sterling when we had been locked up.

My clothes matched the Alpha's. White seemed to be a...