Page 163 of Defiant Beta

“You.” Finished shaking the cocktails, he walks over with two glasses, handing me one before he takes a seat across from me.

I take a small sip and widen my eyes at the sharp-sweet taste. “Yum.” I set my glass down. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I wasn’t honest with myself or you before. Xavier saw it, but I didn’t.”

“Weren’t honest about what?”

“About what you mean to me—and us. I kept telling myself you were only a responsibility, but I was lying to myself.”

My fingers tighten around my glass. “And what do I mean to you?”

“The world, Della Jackson. You mean the world to me.”

“Until a beautiful omega comes along one day and you fall head over heels in love with her?” I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

Like most girls, I grew up hearing stories about epic love affairs between alphas and omegas. There were no stories where betas captured the heart of a handsome alpha, let alone three of them.

He shakes his head. “Just you.”

“And if the omega smells tasty?”

He nudges a flickering candle between us to the side and leans in closer. “I’ll turn around and walk in the other direction.”

I lick my lips. “But if she smells like the best thing ever?”

“I’ll walk faster.” He touches his lips to mine, tasting my smile.

“You have an answer for everything, huh?”

“Della?” he asks, suddenly serious.

“Hmm-mmm?” I take another sip of my delicious cocktail.

“This world makes alphas and omegas the priority.”

I put my glass down to focus on him. “Because they are.”

“No. We’re not.” He studies me silently for several seconds. “What I had with Aly was something I’ve never wanted to recreate. None of us have.”

“You’d need an omega for that,” I quip, though I’m not laughing inside. I’m bracing myself for pain.

He doesn’t even crack a smile.

He takes my right hand from the table and raises it to kiss my knuckles. “Losing something doesn’t mean the end of everything. It can be the start of something new. Something so rare and incredible that you never want to let that thing go.” He smiles. “How about I cook something special for the woman I love?”

My smile is a thousand watts, and I have a lump in my throat. “I’d like that.”

He cooks for us, making duck in orange sauce with fries and salads. He’s a pro in the kitchen, whipping up the meal as we talk about our past, families, and dreams. We laugh more than I thought Vincent could laugh. And I sip my cocktail in a candlelit room.

The meal is as delicious as it smells, and with each bite, I discover more about Vincent than I knew before. Things he loves. Things that scare him.

Hours later, I’m not sure I want to go back to my apartment when he tucks his coat around my shoulder and drives me home.

He walks me to my door, holds out his hand for my key, and unlocks it for me.

I watch him subtly as he surveys my apartment. It’s small, just a basic one-bedroom apartment with an open-plan living area, but it suits me fine.

“I should let you go to bed. It’s late.” He presses a chaste kiss on my lips.

---