Page 5 of Beautiful Butterfly

Alister loved thunderstorms, reveled in overcast days, but he’d woken up to a bright sun. So why did it smell like an approaching storm?

His eyes flew open as he glanced at the large windows overlooking the backyard. The sky was cloudless, the sun still shining brightly. Then his gaze slid to Wyatt.

Numerous times his dad would regale Alister with how his mom’s scent was like running through a field of wildflowers. His mom had often said when she’d met Alister’s dad, she’d been reminded of peppermints and hot cocoa.

They’d also told him about the pull. His dad explained that it felt like an unstoppable force had guided him to his mate.

Alister’s heart raced wildly as Wyatt cut off the burner and turned. His gaze swept over Alister as the side of his mouth turned upward. “I like how messy your hair is in the morning. Glad to know I’m not the only one with unruly hair in the morning.”

Absently, Alister touched his hair as his gaze swung up to Wyatt’s. It was long on top and shaved low on the sides. Alister had seen how styled it was the morning they’d met, but at the moment, it was a silky mess.

Snapping out of his daze, Alister opened the cupboard and grabbed two plates. “You’re the first guy, aside from Paris, who’s seen my hair like this. Don’t you dare tell anyone I don’t spring out of bed looking extraordinary.”

“Your secret is safe with me, but you do look extraordinary.” The warmth of his smile made Alister’s insides sigh.

Clutching the plates to his chest, Alister nibbled his bottom lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s on your mind?” Wyatt eased the plates out of Alister’s hands and filled them.

The words were stuck in Alister’s throat as Wyatt took their plates to the table, set them down, then grabbed a container of orange juice from the refrigerator.

Alister froze when Wyatt reached above his head, all those sinewy muscles now inches from him. If he was bold enough, all he had to do was lean his head forward and trap one of Wyatt’s nipples between his teeth.

“What did you want to ask me?” Wyatt pulled two glasses down, but he didn’t create any distance between them. Alister was captivated by the sight of hard pecs covered in intricate tattoos.

“Our food is getting cold.” Wyatt walked to the table. “We can talk while we eat.”

Alister joined him. “This looks delicious. Thanks for cooking.”

“You’re welcome.” Wyatt got up to retrieve the syrup from the pantry. He plopped the bottle in the center of the table before he sat back down. “I’m a decent cook, but since it’s just me, I usually grab something to eat at the diner.”

A moan escaped Alister when he bit into his bacon. “It tastes like you cooked it in maple syrup. I tried making a grilled cheese sandwich once.” He poured juice into both glasses. “I set off the smoke detector and ruined a brand-new pan, along with my sandwich, which resembled a lump of charcoal.”

Wyatt’s infectious laughter made Alister chuckle. “I’m glad you didn’t burn your place down.”

“I think every resident in the building was thankful I didn’t set the poor sandwich on fire.” Alister’s chuckle settled into a smile. “The apartment and the hallway outside my door smelled like toxic cheese for a week.”

“I’ll show you how to make one.” Wyatt ate a forkful of pancakes.

“No thanks.” Alister wrinkled his nose. “Every time I see a grilled cheese, the memory of that nasty smell fills my mouth and I want to gag.”

Wyatt tapped his bare foot against Alister’s. “So what did you want to ask me, or did you change your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind.” Alister took a sip of his juice as his heart started beating wildly again. “You’ve been nice enough to let me stay here, and I don’t want to freak you out.”

Curiosity filled Wyatt’s light gray eyes. “I don’t freak out easily, butterfly.”

The cheetah shifter gave off a calm and easygoing vibe, qualities Alister had always been drawn to. He’d met other men who seemed that way at first, until they realized Alister was a complete trainwreck and dumped him.

“I’m not saying you are, so don’t race for the nearest exit, but I think…” Alister slapped his palm on the table, annoyed with himself. He’d never had a problem speaking his mind, and he would be damned if he started now. “I think we’re mates.”

“Tell me why you think that.” All those delectable muscles were on full display when Wyatt draped an arm over the back of his chair and settled into a relaxed pose.

“When I passed you to get the plates, it smelled like the air does before a thunderstorm.” Alister tapped his nose like Wyatt needed a damn visual aide. “Tell me I’m crazy and we’re not mates, and I’ll drop the subject faster than a grilled cheese sandwich.”

A low, rumbling purr vibrated in Wyatt’s chest. He leaned forward and pulled Alister’s chair toward him until their knees touched. “What if I said you’re not crazy?”

“Then fate screwed you over, boo.” Alister tried to push backward, but Wyatt curled his legs around the bottom of the chair, preventing him from escaping. Why was Alister panicking? Regardless of what Wyatt said, the guy wasn’t an asshole. He was a good person. For once, Alister hadn’t picked a jerk. Fate had chosen the cheetah for him, so he needed to calm down. “When did you realize we were mates?”

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