Page 27 of Wrong Number, Right Lion

“Good. Now shoo. I know you have a dinner this evening, so I’ll see you tomorrow with a coffee.”

Was I the luckiest omega ever?

14

KALEN

“You’ve got this.” It was probably the tenth time my brother had said those words to me, and he believed them. But still, it was terrifying knowing that I was on my way to pick up my mate, to show him who I was for the very first time. He saw me as the math professor slash fix-it man who saved the day, and I was all of those things. But I was also a lion.

“And if he doesn’t want me anymore?” I voiced my biggest fear. It would crush me. Now that I had a taste of happiness, how could I ever go back? I couldn’t.

“Then I’ll be right over.” He spoke as if it was as easy as that. It wasn’t.

“You can’t come right over. It’s too far.”

“I’ll find a way,” he promised.

I didn’t doubt he’d come. My brother was pretty great like that.

“But don’t worry—it’s not gonna happen. You’ve got this.” How very much I wanted to believe him.

“Now get off the phone and go see your mate.”

I was planning to meet him at my favorite place to shift, and this time, I wasn’t going to chicken out like I did last time I considered showing him my mane. Although, to be fair, chicken out might not be accurate. Arlo had been looking delicious on our date, and it was hard to focus on anything other than tasting his lips, running my hands down his back, slamming into him. Yeah, my brain had been in full-on mate mode that day.

But also, I hadn’t fully figured out how I was going to present who I was to him. There was no easy way to tell someone you were an animal some of the time and not in the kinky fun way. Although, I could be that for him if he ever asked.

Waiting had been better. At least that was what I kept telling myself.

We met at the lot at the foot of the trail I was taking him on. Asking him to bring his own car had pissed my lion off. He wanted to provide and protect, and for some reason he refused to see that this was protecting Arlo. I never wanted him to feel like he had no way out. If we had taken the same car, he would have either felt trapped, or if he drove, like he had to be in a confined space with my beast. Neither was a great scenario.

Arlo was already there when I pulled in, his face lighting up the second he saw me. I parked beside him, and he ran around to my car door before I even got my seatbelt off and threw his arms around me as I stepped out.

“I’ve missed you.” He nibbled on his bottom lip. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” I hugged him close. “Ready?” If we didn’t leave now, I was going to lose the strength I’d borrowed from my brother. I’d have done anything to have the confidence hecurrently had that this would all work out and that my lion wasn’t going to result in my mate pissing his pants and running away in fear.

“Yeah, ready.” He thought the plan was going for a walk—or a hike, as I’d called it—and then getting dinner before heading back to his place. And I wanted to do all those things. But it was what we did during this time that mattered.

We chatted about our day, a little bit about my job, a little bit about his—normal small talk on the way to the clearing. With each step, I felt more confident that everything would be okay. He was so relaxed and comfortable with me, how could it not be?

But then we arrived, and it was do-or-die time. Then terror flooded me. There was so much riding on this one conversation, this one reveal.

“Listen.” I cupped his cheek. “I have something to show you, and I need you to know you will never be in danger.”

His face went pale, his eyes wide, a slight tremor rolled through his body. I’d already messed this up epically.

“You’re scaring me.” It was but a whisper.

“I know. I know I am. But I don’t know any other way to do this.” Tears threatened to fall from my eyes. My job was to keep my mate safe and feeling loved, and what did I go and do? I had him literally shaking, his fear so palpable.

Unsure how to make it better, I followed my grandfather’s rule: When you are in a hole, stop digging. I’m not sure where he got it from, but he reminded me of it every time I got in trouble growing up and thought I could talk my way out of it.

Instead of trying to explain who I was first, I went to the show-and-tell method and started pulling off my clothes. His eyes went wide. Last time he saw me naked, I could scent his slick—his need. That was absent now. On some level, he understood that he was the prey in this scenario. At least on a biological level.

“That is an interesting way to get me naked.” His attempt to lighten the mood failed, his voice trembling.

I shook my head. “No. I’m not. I promise… I just… please… stay here.”

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