Page 17 of The Beta's Blind Date

During the drive home, I’m on autopilot; my mind focused more on my complicated mate bond situation than the roads I’ve driven more times than I can count. I have to figure out what’s going on, have to investigate why she didn’t feel the bond, and have to figure out how to get her to feel it.

It will suck—her knowing we’re mates and feeling the bond. But I can’t reject her if she doesn’t feel it. And I can’t tell her she’s my mate if she doesn’t feel it, because there is no way she will believe me. I know I wouldn’t believe me. And I have to reject her. Which means I have to figure out what the issue is.

The other problem I face is who to confide in. Who can I tell? I can’t tell Seb. Or Nolan. Or Wes. None of them will understand. Sure, they all say they’re supportive of my decision to reject my fated mate, if that’s what I want, but saying that and following through with it when it’s actually happening to me are two very different things.

I can’t tell Haven, because telling her is the same as telling Wes. Everything she knows, he knows, because they don’t keep secrets from each other. I can’t talk to Alpha Harrison or Luna Emily because they’re on another retirement vacation and won’t be back until the week of the wedding.

And there is no way I can talk to my dad.

I park Wesley’s truck at the packhouse so I won’t disturb him and Haven at their home, then hop out and make my way inside, stopping in the kitchen to check for any of Cookie’s homemade cookies. I may have eaten dessert with Taryn at the restaurant, but Cookie’s cookies are legendary, and as much as I enjoy Claude’s food, his macarons do not compare. Only the cookies at Brewed Awakenings come close to hers. And there is no such thing as too many cookies. Plus, cookies are good brain food, which I desperately need.

“Score one for Cookie Monster Beta!” I exclaim as I find a storage container on the island counter full of still warm chocolate chip cookies made with extra chocolate chips.

My favorite.

“You’re home early.”

I jump, almost dropping the precious cargo onto the tile floor of the kitchen.

“Don’t do that!” I say, narrowing my eyes at Sebastian as he laughs and walks to my side, clapping me on the shoulder and taking a cookie. “What if I hadn’t caught them?”

“Then we’d be cleaning cookie crumbs off of Cookie’s floor.”

“And we’d be running laps in the morning for the mess since no one cleans the kitchen to her standards,” I say, grabbing two cookies and replacing the lid. “And it’s not early,” I add, glancing at the clock on the stainless steel ovens. “It’s already 9:30 p.m.”

“That’s early for you. Usually after a night out, you don’t come crawling back here until after midnight.”

“Part of the deal was I couldn’t sleep with her,” I say as I put the cookie container back where I found it and lean my elbow against the counter. “And she wasn’t… my type.”

“Your type is female,” Seb quips, feeding me my usual line when someone tries to claim they’re not my type.

I hum, shrugging and eating one of my cookies.

“I have to say I didn’t think you’d go through with it all,” Seb admits, mirroring my stance and leaning against the island. “With the date and everything else.”

“I should have made a bet with you about it.”

“Too bad you didn’t think of it before!”

I nod. “Too bad.”

He stares at me as he eats his cookie, brows raised, eyes expectant.

I grind my teeth together. “What?” I ask. “What do you want?”

“How did it go?”

“It was fine. Claude’s food was delicious, as always.”

“And your date? The female? Tearin It Up?”

“She’s from Silver Ridge. Her name is Taryn. She’s training to be a warrior,” I say with a bored tone, giving him the bare minimum without spilling any major details about her or what she is to me.

“Was she pretty?” he asks.

I clench my teeth again, preventing my gut reaction, my automatic response.

Hell fucking yes.

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