Page 61 of The Beta's Blind Date

I stroke her back again, down to right above her cute little butt and up to the base of her neck, careful to not touch her hair. My hand cups the back of her neck, my thumb sliding back and forth, and I swallow against the growing tightness in my throat.

“Honestly, it’s probably better this way. I’d never have gotten to know you otherwise. Or seen who you are on the inside. I’d never have accepted my feelings for you.”

My thumb stills and my lips press into her hair—not quite a kiss, because I can’t bring myself to cross that line when she’s unaware of any of this, but as close as I can get to one until she knows we’re meant to be together.

“I’m going to show you I can be the male you need me to be. I’m going to prove it to you. Even though I’m terrified as hell of losing you later, even though I know firsthand what that can do to someone—I’m more terrified of never having you.”

I close my eyes, the itching in them too much to handle. “I know you’re going to be angrier than a goat on fire when you find out the truth, but I have to do it this way. I need to find out what’s going on first, and I want you to fall for me like I’ve fallen for you. I want to make you fall in love with me because—although I’m no expert and will never claim to be one—I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.”

My voice breaks, and I tilt my chin up to the ceiling, breathing in and out to stem the swelling wave inside me. All of it is unfamiliar—it’s everything I’ve pushed down again and again, year after year and moment after moment. It stretches and reaches, attempting to escape, but I clench my jaw and tense my body, pushing it down, forcing it back into the depths of my damaged soul, the soul that doesn’t deserve her but will try to earn her anyway.

“Oh,fuck.”

My eyes blink open, and Taryn leaps off me, cowering in the opposite corner of the couch, my blanket wrapped around her. She takes the warmth and comfort with her, leaving me empty and aching, cold and lost without her touching me.

My instinct is to reach for her, to grab her and tug her back on top of me so we can continue our snuggling, but her wide-eyed gaze and her pounding heart stop me.

I glance at the clock. 10 a.m. Which means I fell asleep again after I whispered my promises to her. Two and a half more hours of glorious sleep with Taryn in my arms.

And now it’s over.

I groan and rub my hand over my face, rolling onto my side and sitting up, throwing my legs over the edge of the couch. I scratch my neck and glance at her again, still sitting there wide-eyed, staring at me.

“I guess we fell asleep while watching Top Gun,” I say, flashing her a smile.

She swallows and licks her lips, leaning forward and glancing around like she’s about to tell me a deep, dark secret. “We had a sleepover.” I nod. “That’s like… one of your rules, isn’t it? No sleepovers?”

My stomach clenches and my palms sweat. She’s not wrong, but my rules don’t matter anymore. They haven’t mattered since I decided I wanted her as my mate. If I’m honest, they haven’t mattered since I walked into that restaurant a week ago and saw her sitting there, waiting for me.

Because the mate bond has no rules.

“It’s fine,” I murmur, running my hand through my hair and avoiding her eyes.

“But—”

“It’s really not a big deal,” I say, shrugging.

She presses her lips together and nods, her movements tentative. “Right.” She draws the word out, reaching up to fix her head wrap. “Right. Because we’re not sleeping together. I mean, we slept together, but we didn’t sleep together.”

I laugh and shake my head, my elbows on my knees and my chin dropping to my chest. She chuckles too, a soft smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry I climbed on top of you,” she says. “I must have gotten cold or something.”

“Again, it’s fine. I actually, um… I actually slept really well.”

I turn away from her again and pat my thighs with my hands, biting my cheek so I don’t say anything else. Then I stand up and start gathering the dishes to take to the packhouse kitchen.

“Me too,” she whispers, so quiet I almost don’t hear her.

But I heard her. And my wolf is smug as fuck, prancing around, wagging his tail.

“Let me help you,” she says, reaching for the dishes.

“I’ve got it,” I say, grabbing them before she can. “You’re my guest.”

“I should still help.”

“You can help by telling me if there is anything you need—like a toothbrush or whatever—so I can mindlink someone to get it for you and by telling me what you want to eat for breakfast before we train in our wolf forms today.”

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