Page 25 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

I chew on my bottom lip, my gaze dropping to the gravel path beneath our feet. “I guess I’ve always just…felt like I had other things to focus on. Like there wasn’t room for anything else. And maybe…” I hesitate, my voice faltering as the words sit heavy in my chest. “Maybe I didn’t think anyone would actually want to.”

The silence makes me cringe–like it’s confirmation that I was right about that. I risk a glance over at him, and the look on his face stops me in my tracks.

He looks…angry.

“You don’t believe that,” he says.

I swallow hard, shrugging as I force a laugh. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m twenty-four and never been kissed, it’s not like I’m going to start now–”

“It does matter,” Colt interrupts. He stops walking entirely, turning to face me. “It matters because it’s bullshit.”

I blink up at him, startled by his sudden intensity. “What?”

“You thinking no one would want to,” he says, his tone unwavering. “That’s bullshit.”

My cheeks flush, and I try to look away, but his presence is too overwhelming. He’s too close, his voice too steady, his gaze too piercing. “Colt?—”

“No, listen to me,” he interrupts, his voice lowering but losing none of its weight. “If no one’s ever told you before, I’m telling you now: anyone who doesn’t want you is either blind, stupid, or both. And if they didn’t tell you that, they’re idiots too.”

I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing as I try to find a response. His words sit heavy between us, and I can feel the truth of them sinking into my chest, unraveling something I’ve kept tightly wound for as long as I can remember.

“I—” I start, but he cuts me off again…and I wonder why this has him so angry, so intense.

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Magnolia,” he says. “But don’t sell yourself short. Now…I think I promised you I would get you home. No kiss required.”

By the time we reach my house, my pulse is thrumming in my ears, and I can feel the weight of him behind me as I climb the small steps to the porch. I turn to face him, my back to the door, and for a moment, I’m not sure what to do.

“Thanks,” I say. “For walking me home.”

“Anytime,” he says, his voice low, his gaze steady on mine.

The air between us is impossibly heavy, pressing us closer together. He doesn’t move, and neither do I. I should say something, make a joke, brush this off as nothing—but I can’t.

Not when he’s looking at me like that, like he’s waiting for something, daring me to say the wrong thing so he can prove me right.

“You should probably—” I start, but the words falter when he takes a step closer, closing the already-small distance between us.

My breath catches, and I can feel my pulse thrumming just beneath the surface of my skin, hot and quick. He’s so close now that I have to tilt my head to meet his gaze, and it’s impossible to ignore the way his scent—dark chocolate and roasted coffee, warm and rich—wraps around me like a cocoon.

“Probably what?” he asks, his voice low and rough. It sends a shiver through me, one I don’t bother trying to suppress.

“I—” I try again, but the words are gone. All I can do is stand there, frozen, as he leans in just slightly, his hand lifting to brush a stray curl away from my face.

The touch is fleeting, barely there, but it’s enough to leave me unsteady. His fingers linger near my temple, and I’m sure he can hear my breathing, shallow and uneven, in the quiet of the night.

“I don’t think you want me to go,” he murmurs.

I don’t answer. I can’t. The truth is too much, too raw to say out loud, but it’s written all over my face, in the way I lean just slightly toward him, in the way my gaze flickers to his mouth before I can stop it.

Colt notices. Of course he notices. His lips curve into a smirk as he steps closer, his hand brushing my cheek now, and my knees feel like they might give out.

“Say the word,” he murmurs, voice so low it’s like it’s meant for me alone. “And I’ll kiss you.”

It’s not fair, the way he says it, almost irresistible. I don’t trust myself to answer, don’t trust myself to say anything at all, so I just look at him, hoping he can read everything I’m too afraid to say.

His gaze drops to my mouth, and for a moment, I think he’s going to close the distance. My heart is pounding so loud it’s like it’s trying to leap out of my chest, and I don’t know if I want to run or reach for him.

Then his gaze shifts, flicking toward the window behind me, and his entire demeanor changes.

---