Page 86 of The Beta's Blind Date

I need to remedy everything with her soon. I need to come clean and own up to all my misdeeds.

The path in the garden winds and twists, much like the thoughts and emotions in my head—the emotions that are both mine and my mate’s. The gravel path ends at a small birdbath in the shape of a sunflower. Ivy wraps around the base, and the beds on either side are flowerless since peonies aren’t in season right now.

I sit on the low wall and pull out my container of cookies, biting into one and chewing on it as I stare at the corner of the garden that used to be hers.

My mom’s.

My throat tightens, and I imagine her crouched in the dirt, hair a mess and clothes filthy, gloved hands covered with dirt that smears over her forehead as she wipes sweat from her brow.

“Hey, Mom,” I say. “I’m sorry I haven’t been out here in a while. I’ve been really busy.”

I set the container next to me, lid off for easy access to the remaining chocolate chip cookies—her favorite. I rub my palms on my jeans and lick my lips, preparing myself to verbalize my truth.

“I—I met my mate,” I whisper, my head tilting up to the stars. They twinkle and tease, reminiscent of the sparkles in Taryn’s night sky eyes. “I met my mate, and she’s… she’s something else, Mom. She’s this passionate, driven, feisty warrior woman. She works her ass off, proving herself to everyone. She’s a lot like you in that regard,” I add, chuckling. “I think you’d really like her.”

I stare at the cookies next to me, reflecting on everything that’s happened since I met Taryn three weeks ago.

“She’s brought me back to life, Mom. I wasn’t living before. I was just surviving. But now—now I know what it means to love. To let someone in. I thought I didn’t want that. But I was just scared. I feared what being vulnerable would do to me in the long run. I realize how wrong I was, though. About everything.”

I breathe in through my nose, scratching at it, ignoring the itching in my eyes. “I was going to reject her. Tonight. Or I thought I was. Before I got to know her. Now the thought of following through with that makes me nauseous. I can’t imagine any version of the future where she’s not there with me. But I may have ruined that for myself because I was too stubborn to ask for help and too scared to tell anyone the truth, including her. I held it all in, and now it’s bitten me in the ass because I almost marked her. I almost marked her in the middle of the street, like a Goddess damned mutt. And she thinks I freaked out because she kissed me, but—”

I swallow and shake my head, cutting myself off. Even though my mom isn’t here with me, I can’t bring myself to tell her how hot that kiss was. Imaginary Mom does not need to know the details of my sex life.

“I’m going to fix it,” I say, gripping my knees. “And I’m not going to let her go without a fight. And when I make it right, I’m going to bring her here so you can meet her.”

My head drops and I catch it with my hands, burying my face in my palms. Tiny drops of water gather on my lashes, and I let them fall, let them soak my skin.

I let it consume me. All of it. Everything I’ve kept at bay, kept hidden from the world, I let out. I should be doing this with Taryn at my side, confessing to her the darkness that’s held me captive and wrapped itself around the broken pieces of my heart, but even without her here, I know this is a step in the right direction.

If I can say all this to the image of my mom in my head, then I can face Taryn and bare my soul to her. I can show her the broken male beneath the false exterior.

I allow myself to let it all out, with nothing held back. I sit under the light of the full moon, surrounded by the plants my mother nurtured and cultivated as if they were her own children, pretending like she’s here with me to hear my confession and my pain.

Chapter 30

REID

Mytearssubside,andI’m sure I resemble a wrung-out washcloth left to dry on the knob of a bathtub, but I gather the cookies and leave the garden. I would stay longer, but the temperature continues to drop, and the scent of snow lingers in the air, threatening to fall at any moment.

I walk back to the packhouse, retracing my steps from earlier, albeit slower this time.

I know what I need to do. I’ve thought about it since Taryn drove off before giving me a chance to explain. But needing to do something and wanting to do something don’t always go hand in hand, so I take my time, letting my thoughts engulf my mind as I walk.

It’s clear what she thinks. She thinks I was using her, telling her what she wanted to hear so I could get something out of her. And maybe the old me would have done that. But I’m not that male anymore. Not since the night she barreled into my life with her scent and her smile, her sass, and her fiery drive.

I push my regret, my remorse, and my repentance down that connection to her. I channel it all into that tiny sliver of a thread tying us to each other, even though she can’t feel it. But I do it anyway, just in case, by some miracle, she can. That connection is my hope, my lifeline, my comfort. The dandelion wisps of disappointment and embarrassment blowing towards me from Taryn’s side remind me the bond is real and anchor every beat of my heart. They remind me that someday, soon, she will feel it too.

Before I know it, I’ve dropped off the remaining cookies in the kitchen and I’m back on the second floor of the packhouse where the beta, gamma, and delta apartments are. I stand with my hands on my hips, my chin to my chest. My shoulders rise and fall as I take deep breaths and steel myself to do what I know needs to be done.

I don’t want to. Goddess, I want nothing less. But I can’t think of anyone else to help me.

I take one final breath, then raise my fist and knock on the door.

Sebastian pulls his apartment door open, dressed in green plaid pajama pants and a black T-shirt, and blinks at me. “What’s up?” he asks, frowning.

I sigh and rub the back of my head, grimacing. “I need your help.”

He nods and opens his door wider, stepping aside. I shove my hands in my pockets and walk past him, standing in the entryway as he closes the door.

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