Page 66 of The Beta's Blind Date

I shake my head and look at the ground, hands on my hips. “Nothing.”

He lifts my chin so I’m forced to look at him. His brow furrows and his blue eyes are soft, although his signature sparkle is there like always. “You know, the bad thing about us spending so much time together is I can tell when you’re lying.”

I give him a small, reluctant smile, a short laugh leaving my lips. His hand moves to my shoulder and rests there, his thumb tracing a little half circle into the fabric of my shirt.

“Now, we’re going to be doing strength training and weight lifting today, and I don’t want you to injure yourself because you’re distracted by whatever it is that’s on your mind. So I’ll stand here with you until you’re ready to tell me why my girl is not acting like herself today.”

“Dominic apologized to me today,” I blurt, saying the first thing that pops into my mind.

A shadow passes over his eyes. His frown deepens, and his thumb freezes, pressing into my collarbone. “Really.”

I nod. “He said I can join the warriors again and he lifted the alpha command he put on the pack against helping me.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” he asks, and I nod again. “Does that mean you’re not going to train with me anymore?”

“Of course not!” I say, shaking my head.

He smiles, his thumb moving on my shoulder again before he slides his hand down my arm to wrap my hand in his. “Good. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re so distracted.”

My mouth opens, but no words come out. How do I tell him he’s my distraction? How do I tell him he’s the reason for my weird mood today, the reason I’m so tied up in knots and unsure about anything and everything?

I can’t do that. There is a week left before my challenge, and if I tell him I’m into him, that I’m attracted to him and falling for him, it will make things awkward for the rest of our trainings.

But I can’t be the only one of us in turmoil. His body reacts to mine just as mine reacts to his. I felt the evidence of that pressed up against me when I pinned him last week and when I woke up sprawled on top of him Saturday morning. I’ve heard him slip and call me “my girl” on several occasions, and I can’t be imagining the looks he gives me, the looks that sear my skin and lay claim to my heart.

Maybe it’s lust. Maybe that’s all it is for the both of us—a desire for something that isn’t ours, that can’t be ours. I have to know, though.

I lick my lips and inhale, taking a chance based on all I’ve observed in him over the last week and a half, testing the waters with as much subtlety as I can muster. “I think he wants me back.”

His entire body tenses and that shadow returns to his eyes faster and darker than before. His nostrils flare and he tightens his grip on my hand, his teeth grinding together. It’s close to freezing outside, but I swear the temperature drops another five degrees. “You think Dominic wants you back?” he asks.

I shrug and cross my arms, taking my hand from his to hide the shakiness. As soon as his touch is gone, my impulse is to reach for him again, but his arms are crossed now too. His muscles bulge, veins and all, fighting with the sleeve of his white T-shirt with how tense he is.

I almost take my words back, tell him it’s not true, but I can’t. Not without explaining why I said the words in the first place. And his reaction is what I aimed for—more than what I aimed for—what I set out to incite in him when I spit out my untruth.

“Why else would he apologize and take back his orders against me?”

Reid grunts and picks up his water bottle, taking a long drink. He slams it down on the table and wipes a drop of water from his mouth with his thumb, his other hand resting on his hip, his body as taut as a bowstring. My hands itch to touch him, to feel the tense muscles of his back beneath my fingertips, to see if my touch relaxes him or heightens his tension.

“Would you go back to him?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“I thought you wanted your mate?”

I step closer to him until I’m almost touching him, my body millimeters from his arm and closer with each breath I take. “I want someone who wants me for me. Someone who sees all of me and has no desire to change what he sees or turn me into something I’m not.” Someone like you.

He looks at me again, like I’ve been waiting for him to do. His eyes pierce into me, cutting through my lies and my facade until he hits my heart. “Then you shouldn’t settle for less.”

I nod. “You’re right,” I whisper.

We hold each other’s gaze, neither of us moving or saying a word. Time stretches out. His heart accelerates, and he shifts his weight on his feet, turning so his body faces mine, his hand resting on the table.

He leans down, his mouth heading to my ear, his breath tickling my skin and moving my wisps of hair like a breeze through blades of grass. “Therapy time is over. Back to training, Cadet.”

His body, his smile, and his warmth are gone, traipsing across the field towards the Crescent Lake training facility before I have a chance to react. The butterflies flying around inside my stomach all drop, poofing out of existence with his sudden departure from my personal space.

I groan and grab my bag, jacket, and water bottle, following him into a weight room and dropping them all on the floor as he moves around the room, adjusting the weights on the equipment.

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