Chapter Fifteen
JESSE
The small dark room seemed to suit Matt’s somber mood. Not that Matt was ever sunshine and kittens, but right now his jaw was tight, his eyes dark, and it was like—it was like someone had died.
Jesse cautiously sat in one of the leather armchairs while Matt paced to the window. He looked out a long time, finally turning to face Jesse. The light behind him made it impossible to see his expression.
“I didn’t mean to treat you like you’re nothing, Jesse,” he said at long last, his voice scratchy, as if something were in his throat. “You don’t deserve that, and that’s not how I see you.”
At those words, something wound tight in Jesse loosened, something that had felt like anger and tears combined. He could breathe deeply again, for the first time since they’d kissed.
“So what’s goin’ on?” he repeated, keeping it gentle, not demanding.
“Like I said, I can’t be with anyone.” He closed his mouth almost before the words were fully out, like he was keeping back what else he might have said. He paused. “It’s not your fault. It just is.”
“Just is, huh? Why? You ain’t hard on the eyes, and your pack seems to like you just fine.”
“That’s because they don’t know.” It spilled out of Matt, and his voice cracked.
With a sigh so deep it sounded like it came from hell, he sank into a chair. His elbows were on his thighs, hands hanging loose, his head down so Jesse still couldn’t read his eyes.
“Look, shit happened.” He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was heavy. Dead-sounding. “It didn’t just happen. It was my fault. People died.”
The words fell into silence, and Jesse didn’t know what to say. When it became clear Matt wasn’t offering anything more, he thought he should respond. “I don’t know what that’s like,” he said honestly. “But why does that mean you can’t have something that you want now?”
Matt’s gaze flew up to meet his, shock in his eyes. “That’s not why—”
He broke off, pressing his lips together, then dragged both hands through his hair, gripping hard, like he needed the pull of pain to ground himself.
Jesse could almost see the battle happening behind his eyes, the instinctive denial grappling with a new concept.
Finally, he breathed out, low and unsteady.
“Maybe it is,” he muttered, barely louder than a breath. He didn’t look at Jesse when he spoke, like Jesse hadn’t been meant to hear.
Then, as if catching himself, Matt sat upright and met Jesse’s eyes with something stark and unflinching. “It wasn’t just something I did—it’s because of who I am. What I am. I can’t put anyone else at risk.”
Jesse took the biggest chance of his life and rose from his chair to cross the room and put his hand on Matt’s tense shoulder.
“Matt, you don’t got to tell me if you don’t want, but you’re talkin’ in riddles here, and I don’t know what you mean.”
Matt stared at the floorboards as disconnected words came out of his mouth. “Too reckless, too obstinate, too dominant.”
Jesse left his hand where it was as he puzzled it through. Thing was, that didn’t sound like Matt. Not like something he’d say. And the other thing was… “Ain’t that how an alpha’s supposed to be? I mean, maybe not the reckless part, but the rest of it?”
“Not like I am.” He snarled it out, the sound of a wolf in pain.
“Okay.” Jesse crouched in front of him, hands resting on Matt’s thighs, the denim warm beneath his palms. Touch seemed to have helped so far.
“But from all I’ve seen and what I’ve been told, your pack kind of worship you.
Look, for all I know, maybe you were that way before”—though he couldn’t imagine Matt being reckless, not with other people’s lives—“but you ain’t now. ”
Matt rubbed his hands over his face again, then cupped them over Jesse’s. Warmth and something more shivered through Jesse at the touch.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Matt said again, and his eyes met Jesse’s, regret clear in them.
They were both still, silent a moment longer, and then Matt pulled his hands away. Jesse didn’t move his from where they were anchored on Matt’s thighs—he had the feeling that if he let Matt go now, those walls would go right back up and would never come down again.
He didn’t understand what had happened in the past, but the thing that was clear to him was that Matt hated himself.
He would never have spoken about a member of his pack the way he had about himself.
He thought he was the one who wasn’t good enough.
Give Jesse a million years, and he’d still never have guessed that.
“Maybe let me decide what I want?” he said, and he leaned in. Not forcing this if Matt really didn’t want it, but inviting.
Matt didn’t move at first. His shoulders stayed rigid, his breath uneven, like he was still fighting something only he could see.
Jesse held steady, not pushing, giving him space—but not too much.
And then, he caught it. The slightest shift in Matt’s expression, the tight set of his jaw loosening, his eyes unshuttering.
It was subtle, but Jesse knew he had just made a decision.
Matt’s breath stuttered, and Jesse saw the moment when his denial, his anguish, slid away to be replaced by…
hope? By want, undeniable and strong. He raised his hand, cupping Jesse’s jaw with a gentleness that belied how tightly he was still wound.
Their lips met, warm and soft. Matt drew away almost as soon as they touched—eyes steady on Jesse’s, checking, almost like he wasn’t sure this was real.
And then Matt leaned in once more. Achingly slow, he paused with his lips just a breath from Jesse’s, and then kissed him again.
Yesterday had been all heat and instinct.
This was different, slower, almost tender.
But when Jesse opened to him, Matt made a low, broken sound that hit Jesse square in the chest.
Then Matt gripped him hard, like he was falling, and kissed him deeper, as if he needed Jesse to breathe. Jesse held on just as tight, his hands shoving under Matt’s shirt, needing skin, heat, him.
It wasn’t careful or smooth. Jesse wasn’t even sure who was holding up who. He was practically in Matt’s lap by the time Matt broke the kiss and stood, dragging Jesse up with him.
And then Matt hesitated. “You’re sure?” he asked, betraying an uncertainty that didn’t become him at all.
Jesse had the nasty feeling Matt was sinking back into his head, about to remember all the reasons why he thought this was a bad idea, so he decided to jolt Matt out of it. He grabbed Matt’s hand and pressed it against his cock, letting him feel the hardness and warmth through old, soft denim.
“Pretty damn sure,” he said, and then wasn’t able to say another word because Matt’s mouth was on his, heat and passion and wildness, his hands pulling Jesse tight against him.
Matt kissed like a whirlwind—full of power, and so intense it was disorienting. Jesse clung to him, Matt’s hands gripping him like he couldn’t bear to let go. Despite the hunger that was setting every part of Jesse alight, something deep inside him thrummed with safety.
They broke apart just long enough to gasp for breath, Jesse barely registering the way Matt’s grip tightened even further, like he was anchoring himself.
Then Matt moved, and Jesse went with him—backward, fumbling, bumping into doorframes, knocking into walls as they navigated the hallway without breaking their kiss.
Jesse didn’t care, didn’t care where they were going, only that Matt was leading him there.