Page 143 of The Beta's Blind Date

As soon as he reaches the speed he sets the machine to, I up my speed as well, until it’s just above his. His brow furrows, and he turns the pace up on his treadmill, too.

Back and forth we go, both of us picking up our pace, both of us pushing the other to run harder and faster until the machines are at the highest speed possible and our feet pound against the belts, our hearts racing as we sweat and breathe faster than ever.

The irony of the situation is not lost on me—it’s another mirror, another echo of a day almost fifteen years ago. The day we found out we lost Haven and Wesley’s lycan pushed him into an early shift. A shift that carried the potential to kill him, but, thank the Goddess, didn’t.

But that day, he raced Seb, and today, he’s racing me. But it all boils down to the same issue—him, and the burdens he shoulders, always taking the blame for situations outside his control. He didn’t fuck things up for me or my dad, just like he didn’t fuck up Haven’s childhood.

The speed becomes too much for me, and I grab the handles, lifting my feet to place them on the sides of the treadmill to wait for the belt to slow down. Except, my toe catches on the edge and I lose my balance. My feet fly out from under me, my body flopping forward onto my stomach. A thud fills the room as my chin smacks onto the belt, snapping my teeth together, and even though I’ve stopped running, the belt continues moving and drags my body with it until I’m in a crumpled heap on the floor behind the machine.

I groan and roll onto my back, scooting myself away from the rude treadmill, giving it a kick for good measure before I’m too far away. I close my eyes, ignoring the laughs of Haven and Taryn. My body feels like a spooked herd of cattle dragged it across a dirt road, and I’m sure my knees and my chin have bruises already forming. At least with my shifter healing, it will be gone by the time I head back to Taryn’s suite to shower off.

Wesley’s barking laughter joins with the girls’, and I roll my eyes but stay on my back, my body aching from the sprinting and my fall.

“Dickhead,” I grumble, staring up at the ceiling as Wes crouches over me.

He reaches down, laughing at me, and I grab his hand. But instead of using it to help myself up, I yank him down onto the floor with me.

He’s prepared for it—of course—and catches himself in a roll, taking me with him. We grapple on the floor, rolling and throwing fists, elbows, and knees, both of us trying to get the upper hand. It’s not sparring as much as it is roughhousing, reminiscent of what we’d do when we were pups, still learning how to use proper form and how to be werewolves, still learning how to focus our energy and strength.

“Ouch!” I say as his elbow hits my stomach, my body curling on itself. “Fuck!” His arms wrap around my neck, and he pins me to the floor, his full weight on top of me.

I scratch and tug at his arm, pushing against him with all my might, but while I may be the strongest of all the warriors—besides Seb—Wes is the alpha and a lycan, and I’m no match for him when he’s set on winning. Which is always.

“Fine! Fine!” I slam my hand against the floor. “You win!”

He chuckles and rolls off me, laying next to me on the floor and staring at the ceiling while I stay on my stomach, my arms at my side and my cheek pressed against the cool, smooth mat. We both say nothing, breathing in and out until our heart rates slow.

“Haven!” Wes says, tilting his head back to look at where she sits against the wall with Taryn.

She tosses something at him, something that jingles and clinks together, and he catches it with one hand, holding it out to me.

It’s a set of keys on a key ring—two of them, an exact match to each other.

“What’s this?” I ask, pushing myself to a sitting position as I take the keys.

“The keys to my old house,” he says, sitting up as well, draping his arms over his knees. “You can’t stay in Taryn’s guest suite forever, and I wasn’t sure if you’d want to stay in the beta apartment considering… everything. Hospitality cleaned it and set up some basic supplies for you.” I stare at the keys in my hand, my throat bobbing. “You don’t have to use the house if you don’t want to, but it’s yours if you do. You and Taryn. Until you build your own house or—”

“Thanks,” I say, cutting off his rambling, my lips twitching as I hear Haven’s muffled chuckling behind me.

I put the keys in my left hand and hold my right out to him, waiting for him to clasp it and shake it.

But he’s too familiar with my tricks. Instead of taking my hand, he lunges forward and tackles me again, laying me out flat on the floor.

“Werewolves, I swear,” Haven mutters.

I laugh and we start wrestling again, the same as before, except with less weight on our shoulders and less guilt in our hearts. No more words are needed—not for us, anyway.

Our roughhousing ends the same as our first round—with Wesley pinning me and me yielding to him. Laughter bounces around the room, and I grab the keys from the floor as I get to my feet, walking over to my girl. She smiles at me from the floor, her dark eyes gleaming. I dangle the keys from my finger and smile back at her, reaching my other hand out for her to take.

“Let’s go home, Cadet.”

Chapter 50

TARYN

“Hereweare!Homesweet home!” Reid says as he opens the door to Wesley and Haven’s old house.

I stand on the steps of the small sage green, white, and tan bungalow, my eyes taking in the covered porch and the adorable patio swing at one end. The house has less of a cabin feel than most of the buildings here at Crescent Lake, but it gives off the same homey vibes I get from the pack as a whole.

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