Page 10 of Sweetheart: Part One

“It’s uh…?” Drake paused, unsure. “Sorry, I didn’t catch—”

“Vex.” My voice was barely a rasp.

“Are you alright, Vex?”

I blinked, then found myself looking up into deep violet eyes full of concern. Eyes I’d seen a thousand times before, yet it was like seeing art in a new medium. Up close, he was different. He wore a band t-shirt that was tucked haphazardly into dark jeans.

He was slender and tall, if not quiteEbonytall, and midnight curls fluttered around pale skin, and his expression was concerned. I seized onto that.

By reputation, Drake was quiet and unknown, but his scent of blackcurrant wine was soothing as he stared at me, kind and concerned. “Can I call anyone?” he asked.

“C-call?” I asked.

“To pick you up,” he said, as if it were obvious.

I stared at him, lips parted.

He doesn't want you…

It’s been five minutes, and he doesn’t want you.

My weary, fragile omega heart, that had been ground down over and over in the last three months, finally cracked and tears flooded my face.

I knew how stupid it was to cry over the idea that a man I’d never met before didn’t want me.

But he was supposed to.

When the rest of the world was against me, this pack was my last hope.

Ebony had attacked me, and Drake didn’t want me.

The world spun.

“Hey!” He sounded more concerned than I was expecting, and I felt his touch return to my shoulder, more steadying this time.

“Can you take me to my room?” I managed to choke out.

I needed to get it together, not bawl my eyes out in front of him.

“Your room?” he asked, confused. “Vex, you—”

“I didn’t quit.” I had to force the determined words out. Until the week was up, it was still my choice to quit.

Choice?

I caught a breathless, choked laugh before it bubbled up. “I just… need…” Darkness smudged the edges of my vision, and his grip tightened on my shoulder.

“Hey!” he said again.

If I didn’t take my gaze from his worried, violet eyes, the world didn’t seem so crazy. So beautiful… So out of reach… “My room. Please.”

“It’s upstairs, but you’re pale. I’m uh, going to carry you,” he said.

I couldn’t focus. His words were faint.

My fingers were curled around the front of his shirt as I tried to keep myself steady.

“That means touching you, alright?” he asked.

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