Chapter Six – Matteo
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I let that growl slip. There are half a dozen reasons why that growl should never have surfaced to begin with—the first and foremost being Noelle isn’t mine. She doesn’t belong to me. She’s not my omega. She’s my sister’s best friend, that’s it.
Secondly, it was Nico who made the joke about wanting her on his team.
Nico, my brother. Part of my pack. Packmates shouldn’t get jealous of each other, they shouldn’t keep things for themselves—including their mate.
What if I’m not cut out to be pack leader after all? It’s a thought that terrifies me.
And it’s all because of her, because of Noelle.
Because of what I feel deep inside when I’m near her.
It’s so damned hard for me to think straight when she’s in the room, let alone when I’m merely thinking about her.
It’s like the simplest thought of her sends me tumbling over a cliff, and no matter how fast I think I am, regardless of how strong I may be, I cannot pull myself up from that ledge.
I fall. I fall and fall until the cliffside is a distant memory.
I pace my room, out of sorts in the worst way. I stripped off my coat and boots the moment I locked myself in here; they lay in a heap in the corner of the room. As I pace, I can’t stop picturing not only the looks on my brothers’ faces, but also the look on Noelle’s.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve tried. All these years, I’ve tried so goddamned hard. I did my best, and for a while, I thought it was working. Clearly, it wasn’t. Miranda bringing her here without warning us while also telling us to just do it already was the icing on the cake.
She knows. She knows we have feelings for Noelle. And here I thought we were sly about it all these years. Turns out, we weren’t. We were just your average, run-of-the-mill alphas who were trying their best not to make their little sister’s friend uncomfortable.
Well, that plan got fucked to hell thanks to me.
I can play off the growl all I want, but no alpha growls like that for no reason.
If Noelle didn’t have a clue before, she sure does now, and even though Miranda says feelings are reciprocated, it still terrifies me to think about the possibility the omega will deny us.
I don’t know that I could take it. Uber alphas run the world, but the right omega, a scent match, can bring them to their knees in the blink of an eye.
And Noelle? She’s mine. She has to be. Anytime I’m near her, it takes an ungodly amount of strength on my part to not reach for her, to resist the urge of grabbing her and pulling her close.
And her scent? Her scent is enough to drive me insane.
I’ve never wanted anything as badly, as desperately, as I want her.
I crave her so much it’s become a need, a need I’ll never see filled.
If she felt the same, if she felt anything remotely close to what I do, surely something would have already happened?
I don’t know how long I’m in there, hating on myself and my actions, but eventually a soft knock bounces off the door, and I stop pacing and straighten up instantly, whipping my head in the direction of said door.
Though I can’t see who’s on the other side, deep down I know who it is, and that’s the only reason I don’t lash out right away.
Still, I sound grumpier than I intend to when I ask bluntly, “What?”
Noelle’s voice comes from the other side of the door: “I made you some hot chocolate.” She waits a moment, and I imagine her standing there with a mug in her small hands. “I’ll just put it down—”
I rush toward the door and unlock it, throwing it open before she can finish that thought, mostly because I don’t want her to set it down and go away. She acts a little surprised at the speed at which I open the door, her blue eyes wide as she tilts her head back and gazes up at me.
It strikes me then just how much I don’t want that hot chocolate. No, I’d much rather have the person holding it.
I don’t say anything, but I do step aside and wordlessly give her the option of coming in.
I don’t push her. I won’t put pressure on her at all, but goddamn, I’d be a liar if I say I don’t want her to come into my room and stay a while.
My unease faded into nothing the moment I met those beautiful baby blues.
Noelle’s eyes peer around me, taking in my room. I hear her suck in a breath, and I ready myself for disappointment—after my display earlier, it’s no wonder she doesn’t want to be in a room alone with me. I can’t blame her for that. She probably doesn’t feel safe.
A few seconds go by, and then she does something I don’t expect: she steps past me and walks into my room. My breath catches when she walks by, and it’s the struggle of struggles to not breathe her in.
Noelle sets the hot chocolate on the nightstand before she wanders to the window on the far side of the room. The curtains are drawn open; the window is large enough to let in enough natural light that the ceiling lights don’t need to be on, even with the sky covered in clouds today.
“If I did something to make you do that, I’m sorry,” she whispers while staring at the world of snow outside.
I approach her, or rather, I approach the window on its other side so it doesn’t look like I’m trying to box her in.
I stick my hands in my jeans’ pockets in an effort to stop myself from touching her, from holding her, as I say, “You didn’t do anything.
It was my fault. I shouldn’t have done it. Nico was only joking—”
“No,” she tells me, turning those blue irises to me. “He wasn’t. He did want me on his team the next round.” The corners of her lips pull into a gentle smile.
“Yeah. You’re probably right. Still, it was wrong of me to do that.
” I stare hard at the window, at the outside world, because if I don’t stare at the window, I’ll stare at her, and then I don’t know where I’ll be, what I’ll do.
Being so close to her is maddening. It’s hard to breathe, as wimpy as it sounds.
Silence overtakes us both, and I wish I knew what she’s thinking about, whether she’s disgusted or upset with me and only trying to be nice, or if, maybe, she didn’t mind the growl. When it happened it surprised us both. Now that she’s had some time to digest it, does she think differently?
Even though it might be a mistake, I bring my eyes to hers. “The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.” I might be an asshole where most people are concerned, but I’ve always had a soft spot for her, even before we knew she was an omega.
“I know.”
“If you want me to stay away from you this week, I can—”
“No.”
I stop what I’m saying immediately. At first, I don’t know that I heard her correctly, but as we stare at each other, it fully dawns on me just how swiftly that denial came from her, how she took a tiny step toward me when she said it.
My hands, somehow, aren’t in my pockets anymore, either; they hang at my sides, itching to reach for her.
“No?” I echo, wanting her to say more, needing it.
Noelle says it again, “No. Why would I want you to stay away from me?”
“Because I—” For some reason, anything I might’ve told her right then doesn’t make sense. Just with the look she’s giving me, I know for a fact nothing I could do would make her uncomfortable. She trusts me, and knowing that is a drug unlike anything else in the world.
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I lift my right hand and bring it to her face. I’ve never touched her like this, not once, but right now, something in me feels so… so weak.
My fingertips touch her cheek, and she doesn’t turn away, doesn’t smack my hand off her. She only stands there, gazing up at me with such a heavy expression, that touching her face is the only thing I can do.
Her skin… God, it’s so soft. So unbelievably smooth. Like porcelain. Like satin. If every inch of her is as smooth as the skin on her cheek, she’s the winner of this war. I’ve lost. I’ve lost to her. There is no hope for me—and you know what? I don’t mind it one bit.
There are so many things I could say, so many things I want to say, but all that slips out of me is her name in a hushed whisper: “Noelle.” The way I say it is new, foreign.
I’ve never said her name quite like that before.
It’s a prayer on my tongue, a plea, and though I am not physically on my knees as I wait for her to answer it, I might as well be.
My hand moves to cup her cheek, and she responds by turning her face in to my palm, closing her eyes and nuzzling against it as a soft sigh escapes from her.
And just like that, my prayers are answered.
I move closer to her, my body having a mind of its own.
Noelle fits snugly between my body and the wall next to the window, and I let her nuzzle against my hand for a few moments more before I snake my other arm around her lower back and pick her up, much like I picked her up outside.
The hand I had on her face falls to her backside for added support.
Pinned between my body and the wall, with her feet off the floor, she has nowhere to go.
We might stand in a similar position as we did outside, but there are no fluffy jackets between us, no bitter cold biting at our faces. It’s just the two of us, and right now, that’s all that matters.
With her picked up, her face is about level with mine, and she mimics what I did earlier by bringing one of her hands to my face, touching me in the same way I touched her.
Hesitant, at first, but then more confident as the seconds tick by.
We gaze into each other’s eyes, and right then I know I’m not the only one who’s lost.
If I am lost, she is, too. A good thing. It’s always more fun when you’re lost together.
Her hand falls off my face, and though she doesn’t say a word, her next actions say it all. She tilts her head to the side, bearing her neck to me, a sign of submission. An offering, one that means so much more than words.