Page 56 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
"Since you broke your coffee mug?" she teased, but her voice was breathless.
"Since you told me exactly what you thought of my attitude." I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "Nobody ever called me on my shit before. Most people just leave me alone."
"Maybe I don't want to leave you alone."
The words hit me harder than they should have. I'd spent so many years convincing myself that alone was better, safer, that I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to want someone to stay.
"I'm falling for you too," I said, the words coming out rough but honest. "Harder than I thought possible. You make me want to be better than I am."
"You're already better than you think you are."
She kissed me again, and this time it was deeper, more confident. I let myself get lost in it, in the way she respondedwhen I traced her lower lip with my tongue, in the soft gasp she made when I nipped gently at her mouth. My hands tangled in her hair, finally getting to touch those silky strands I'd been thinking about for weeks.
When we broke apart this time, we were both breathing hard. I pulled her down to sit beside me on the soft moss beside the pool, our backs against a fallen log that had been smoothed by years of weather. The sound of falling water was peaceful, constant, mixing with our quiet breathing and the distant call of evening birds.
"This really is your place," she said softly, looking around at the cathedral of trees overhead, the way the light filtered through the canopy in golden shafts.
"It is now," I said, then caught myself. "I mean, it was mine. But sharing it with you... it feels like it was always meant to be shared."
She turned to look at me, something soft and wondering in her expression. "What else do you want to share?"
The question was simple, but I could hear the weight behind it. She was asking about more than just secret places.
I reached for her hand, threading our fingers together. Her hand was so much smaller than mine, soft where mine were callused, but it fit perfectly. "Everything," I said, surprising myself with how easy the truth was. "I want to share everything with you. Morning coffee and late-night conversations and fixing things around the house and just... being together."
"Even the grumpy parts?" she teased, but there was something serious underneath it.
"Especiallythe grumpy parts. You seem to like me better when I'm being difficult anyway."
She laughed, squeezing my fingers. "I like you all the ways you are."
"What about you?" I asked, bringing our joined hands up to brush a kiss across her knuckles. "What do you want? For the future, I mean."
She was quiet for a moment, watching the water cascade down the rocks. "I want to feel like this," she said finally. "Safe and seen and wanted for who I really am. I want to wake up every morning knowing that I don't have to pretend to be someone else to deserve love."
"You don't," I said firmly. "You never did."
"I'm starting to believe that." She turned our hands over, tracing the lines on my palm with her free hand. "I want to take pictures again.Real pictures, of things that matter to me. I want to have a garden and learn to cook and maybe get a dog that's too big for the house."
"I like dogs," I said, dropping a gentle kiss on her lips and she grinned against my lips.
"I want to build something that lasts," she continued, her voice getting stronger. "Not just survive, butreally live. With people who choose to be there."
"I choose to be there," I said, the words coming out rougher than I'd intended, before I kissed her again. "Whatever you're building, I want to be part of it."
She lifted our joined hands and pressed them against her cheek. "Promise?"
"Promise."
We sat like that for a while, watching the light change as the sun moved lower in the sky. I kissed her again, slow and sweet, tasting the promise we'd just made to each other. It was impossible not to at this point. When she sighed against my mouth, soft and content, I felt something settle in my chest that I'd never experienced before. Like coming home to a place I'd been searching for my whole life without knowing it.
The sun was setting, painting the waterfall in shades of gold and orange, and the air was getting cooler.
"We should head back before it starts to get dark," I said, though what I really meant was that I didn't trust myself to keep things slow and careful if we stayed here much longer, surrounded by beauty and privacy and the sound of her soft sighs.
"Will you bring me back?" she asked, and there was something in her voice that made me think she understood exactly what I was thinking.
"Anytime you want. This place is yours now too."
