Page 82 of The Beta's Blind Date

I pull the phone from my face and look at the battery. Ten percent. I sigh. “Probably not.”

“Well, hang tight and I will be right there, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

“But call me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” I repeat. “Bye.”

I hang up and toss my phone on the seat, then press the heels of my hands into my eyes to push the tears back while I wait for Reid.

“Thereyougo.Goodas new.”

Reid slams the hood and pats it with one hand. Then he turns away from my car, facing me where I stand near the tail end of his truck, wiping his hands on a rag and tossing it into the bed. I stare at him with my arms crossed, my throat tight, and my eyes itching again.

“What is it?” he asks, stopping in front of me.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’re going to cry again?”

Because I’m in love with you. Because you’ve stolen my heart. Because even though we agreed to explore this together, I’m afraid if I tell you the true depth of my feelings, I’ll scare you away. I’m afraid you didn’t mean what you said, that it was all a ruse, just pretty words, so you can take what you want from me.

All those thoughts race through my mind, but I shove them back.

“I failed my challenge,” I confess, looking at the ground.

He swallows and nods, hands in his back pockets. “I know.”

“You know?”

“I mean, I figured as much. When you didn’t call and ignored all my calls and texts, I knew something was up. I put two and two together.”

I inhale through my nose. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I locked myself in my room for most of the week and didn’t even talk to Blake.”

He steps closer, cupping my cheeks and lifting my face to look into his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. You’re allowed to be disappointed. You’re allowed to mope.”

His thumbs caress my cheekbones and I close my eyes, falling into his arms, hiding myself in his massive, solid chest. He is safety and comfort, and he embraces me, engulfing me in his warmth. I hold on to him, selfishly soaking in every piece of him. The fear of facing him, of admitting my failure to him, washes away with every inhale of his scent, like ocean waves erasing a name in the sand.

“You’re not a failure, Taryn,” he whispers, his mouth moving against the top of my head, knowing how I am feeling without me voicing it. “You worked so hard, and you stood up for yourself, for what’s right. That takes strength and courage.”

“The first half went so well. I don’t understand what happened,” I say, my throat tight. “I couldn’t shift. My wolf wouldn’t come forward, wouldn’t let me switch forms,” I tell him, turning my head to look up at him, my chin resting on his chest.

He frowns. “But you had just shifted the day before. When we played hide and seek.”

“I know.”

“I wonder why you couldn’t,” he muses.

“I think it’s because I overworked myself. I pushed myself and her too hard. And I got too confident.”

“Have you tried shifting since?” he asks, rubbing my back.

“No. I’m too embarrassed.”

“Understandable,” he says. “What about Dominic? Is he helping you figure out what’s going on with your wolf? Has he said if he’ll let you try again later? After you figure out why you didn’t shift or what’s going on? Have you talked to your pack doctor at all?”

I sigh and shake my head. “I told you, I haven’t talked to anyone or even left my room. I set an appointment with our doctor for next week, but I only left today to come here and get my hair done for the wedding tomorrow.”

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