Page 6 of The Beta's Blind Date

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Sebastian coos, squatting next to me and patting my cheek.

I swat his hand away and turn onto my side, rolling my eyes.

“Now, if I recall correctly, our last remaining bet was if you broke one of your ‘rules,’ then I got to set you up on a date. An actual date, where you take her to dinner and talk to her and get to know her. A date with no sex at the end of it.”

“Hmph.” I sit up and rest my elbows on my knees, avoiding his eyes.

“Is that correct or not?” he pushes.

“It’s correct,” I grind out through my clenched teeth.

“Great!” He jumps up and jogs to our phones. “Here,” he says as he comes back, messing around on mine and tossing it to me before going to the water station.

I snatch it out of the air and find he’s downloaded the Date-To-Mate app to my phone. The account name is “CookieMonsterBeta,” and my entire profile is already filled out with likes and dislikes and everything else the app asks for when you sign up.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask, turning the screen to him.

“Your profile,” he replies, cool as a cucumber, sipping water from his cup as I glare at him.

My jaw drops open to the floor of the gym. “You made it for me?” He nods. “When?”

“Five years ago, when we made the original bet. I’ve been managing the account on my phone, updating the profile every so often, and finding matches for you, anxiously waiting for this day to arrive.” I glare at him, jaw clenched, my hand in a fist to keep from punching him. “What’s the matter? Did I answer the questions wrong?” he asks.

“No, they’re all fucking correct!”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“They’re all correct!” I repeat, and he laughs. “Am I really that much of an open book? And come on, did you have to include that Rapunzel is my favorite Disney princess?”

“Girls love that shit.” He shrugs. “You have several recent matches, but I think TearinItUp is the one.”

I tap on the profile he mentions as he walks into the locker room. I don’t bother to look at any of it, instead typing out a message to ask her on a date.

“I’m so going to regret this.” I sigh, closing my eyes and hitting send before I can change my mind.

Chapter 3

TARYN

Evergreentreessprinkledwithsnow rush by me as my feet carry me through their midst. The sharp, cold air stings my face. The scent of pine and snow and early morning sun is refreshing and invigorating, encouraging me to keep my pace as I finish this last leg of my morning run.

My thighs burn, but it is a good burn, a burn you get from a solid workout, from an energizing run. I’ve started my day this way for years now—since the day of my first shift—and on the days I skip it, I can tell the difference in not just my physical energy but my mental energy too.

I crest over the final hill and the large, luxurious craftsman-style packhouse comes into view, the sprawling lawn holding a fresh dusting of snow, resembling a powdered donut. I pick up my pace, the finish line of my personal race in sight, and let out a tiny “whoop!” as I reach the front steps.

I slow to a jog, and the image fades, the virtual reality program sending a signal to the treadmill that the workout preset is complete. I detach the VR headset from my face, turn off the clip-on fan, and hop down from the machine, grabbing my towel and dabbing my sweat-soaked face as I look at the view from the enormous windows in the packhouse’s gym.

It is the same view I had during my run, but I enjoy it much more from the inside than I do from the outside. That’s why I use the VR workouts instead of running through the forest in the mountains—it’s too damn cold out there for my taste, and I prefer the warmth of the indoors, thank you very much.

I am a Southern California girl at heart. I’d take the beach and sometimes sweltering heat over the snow and frigid temperatures any day of the week. But family is important to me, which is why I moved to Silver Ridge after my parents passed away. So I could be with my aunt—my mom’s sister—instead of alone and without any family in the pack I grew up in.

The other pack members here think it’s odd I rarely run in the forest with them; most of them do a run out there at least once a week. I don’t mind it in the spring and summer or early fall. But this is only my second winter living here, and with Silver Ridge being at a higher elevation than any other pack in the state, my ass is always frozen during the snowy months.

And my toes.

“Time?”

I glance at the treadmill, checking the timer. “Fifty minutes,” I say, turning to my best friend Blake as she crosses the room. “You?”

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