Chapter 38
Bayleigh
The night air hits me when I step onto the porch, cool enough that it should raise goosebumps, but it doesn’t. I’m too warm from the inside out, my body still on the high with everything Lincoln and I shared tonight.
And then there’s Milton. I can feel him next to me. The gentle brush of his shoulder against mine. His grapefruit scent mixing with mine and Lincoln's.
He reaches for my hand. His fingers thread through mine like it’s something he’s done before, even though he hasn’t. His palm is warm, steady, and I swear my heart actually stumbles at how natural it feels. I feel my perfume seep out stronger, but he doesn’t say anything.
He leads me down the steps, my legs a little unsteady, not from the walk but from the thought looping on repeat in my head. I lost my virginity tonight. With Lincoln. The man who looks at me like I’m his entire world.
When we reach the truck, he doesn’t just open the door; no, he goes a step further. Milton braces one arm on the frame, the other at my waist, guiding me up into the seat like I’m something precious he’s taking care of.
My eyes drop to him as he speaks. “You okay?”
I nod, and he flashes me a crooked grin as he shuts the door.
He jogs around the front of the truck and slides into the driver’s seat. He looks at me like he’s trying— and failing—- to hide how happy he is. To be here, in my presence. Next to me. Even in this car. Knowing I can make someone look like that is still so new. So hard to believe.
Then he winks. A full, devastating, heart-stuttering wink.
My breath catches in my throat.
He starts the engine, and I smile as it comes to life, vibrating beneath us.
He backs out onto the street with one hand on the wheel and the other drifting across the center console.
His fingers brush against mine once…twice…
three times as if he’s testing the waters, before he finally captures my hand completely.
Then he lifts it to his mouth, peppering light kisses on my knuckles. He’s not rushing, not teasing. Heat climbs up my neck. My toes curl in my shoes. And I squirm in my seat.
But he doesn’t stop. And he doesn’t make me feel embarrassed.
Every stoplight becomes its own moment, brief but intense, and I secretly start wishing we hit every one on the way to my house.
At the first one, he looks over and says, “You look unbelievable tonight.”
At the next, “I can’t believe I get to take you home like this.”
He makes sure he faces me each time so I can see every word on his lips. Even when the light turns green, he doesn’t move until he knows I understand what he’s saying.
At the third, he squeezes my hand and asks, “Feeling okay, sweetheart?”
And for the first time in my life, it’s not a lie when I speak. “More than okay.”
By the time he turns onto my street, I’m clinging to these moments, knowing I’m going to cherish them forever.
He parks in front of my house but leaves the truck running. He moves his seat back, then shifts his body, turning so that he can see me fully.
“I want to ask you something.” He lifts his hand, rubbing the back of his neck as I see indecision on his face. “I’ve been practicing something. Fuck, it’s not perfect, Bayleigh. But I want to try.”
I’m starting to get worried. Was all the sweetness leading up to him telling me he doesn’t want to see me anymore? My mind knows it doesn’t make sense, but I’m so used to being torn apart after something good happens.
He smiles, soft, kind. I’m so confused.
He takes a deep breath, then his fingers start moving, awkwardly, but he’s trying.
Can I kiss you goodnight? Just once?
My lip trembles, and the tears start welling up before I can blink them away.
“Fuck, fuck. I’m sorry. Did I sign something wrong? I watched a video. I swore that was how to ask. Unless you don’t want to kiss me.” I can see the sheer panic on his face.
He learned sign language for me. Not by asking me, or me showing him. He actually took the time to find out how to ask me something on his own.
I reach out, cupping his face with my hand, and speak.
“Yes. Kiss me.”
He smiles, then leans in, as my heart pounds.
The kiss starts soft, his hand cradling my jaw, his mouth brushing mine like he’s asking again, even now if this is okay.
Confirming that I want this, that I want him, just as much as he wants me.
My fingers go to his chest, tangling in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepens, warm and breath-stealing, our mouths a language all their own.
I don’t know how long we kiss. A minute, twenty. Time moves snail-like as we make out in his vehicle.
I feel his breath hitch when I press closer to him. The way his fingers slide to the back of my neck. Every second of this time with him is burning into my memory.
It’s almost too much.
I finally break away, breathless and dizzy, my lips tingling. His lips chase mine for a second before I pull back fully.
“You’re trouble,” he says, smiling like he doesn’t mind that one bit.
“Thank you for the ride. For the kisses,” I tell him. My finger lifts to my lip, rubbing it softly.
“You never have to thank me, Baby. That was amazing.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and I can tell without even seeing my face that I’m blushing.
I open the door, heart pounding, and step out into the cool night. Every step toward my house feels like walking on air, like I’m carrying the warmth of his hands and the weight of his kiss with me.
When I get to my door, I look over my shoulder, seeing him still there, waiting for me to get safely inside. I lift my hand and wave before opening my door and stepping in.
By the time I make it to my bedroom, I’m still smiling. Still glowing. Still tasting him on my lips. Still feeling the evidence of the night between my thighs.
Still replaying the truth I can’t believe.
Tonight… everything changed. And I never want to go to a time before this.
Bright rays of light shine through my sheer curtains. The warmth of the rays falling on my face, the kind of heat that forces my eyes open even when my body wants to keep dreaming. To stay in the euphoric bliss it’s created.
I pull my arms from beneath my blanket, reaching them above my head as I stretch. Glancing over, I see it’s almost noon. I’ve never slept this late before. Never felt this relaxed. This happy.
A faint, tender ache in my core reminds me immediately that last night wasn’t a dream.
It was real. Every amazing, delicious moment happened.
My breath stutters.
My cheeks warm, my hand presses lightly to my thigh, not to soothe, just to confirm the truth that I already know.
It felt right. There was no embarrassment or guilt. It’s everything I want and more.
And even now, in the quiet of my own room, it feels unreal in the best possible way.
The memories come back in fragments—not explicit, not sharp, just soft sensations that glow under my skin.
The way he looked at me like I was something precious.
The way he touched me, like I was meant to be there. That he wanted me.
The way he spoke to me.
And the way he said it. Like it was an unofficial vow to me.
I never imagined how deeply those words would hit me. How hearing them from him made me realize that Joseph was never meant to say them. “My omega…”
I inhale shakily.
My body immediately reacts to those remembered words. Chest tightening with warmth, my pulse flickering fast. My head sends a quiet shiver down my spine.
He told me I was it for him. That he didn’t want anyone else. He made me feel like choosing me wasn’t just a fluke of the moment—it was something he’d already known he wanted to do.
Lying here alone, wrapped in my own sheets, I realize how much that matters. How much he matters.
I remember the way I gazed into his eyes afterward—still breathless, still finding myself—and the words I uttered.
“You’re mine too. Alpha.”
He is. But not just him. I can’t wait to experience the same with Milton and Korbin. My heart’s hoping with everything that they want the same.
I miss Lincoln already. His steadiness. The security of his presence beside me.
But beneath all of that is something steadier, deeper.
A quiet, glowing sense that something in my life shifted last night. That whatever comes next, I’m not the same girl I was yesterday. And I love the woman I am today.
Throwing the blanket off me, I sit up in bed, get dressed, and then before heading out of the room, pick up my phone off the nightstand. I need coffee and food.
As I move through the house, I don’t see anyone. No Benton. No parents. But with it being almost noon, I know they’re at work. My mom most likely at the nursing home visiting those with no families. She loves to read romance stories to the ladies, and even some of the men join in to hear them.
For once, I finally get how they feel in those books when they meet the men who make them complete. Who show them how love can really feel. How a woman should be treated.
While Benton has been more tolerable since our talk, he still manages to let me know his true feelings about the guys. My guys. So, for once, I’m glad he’s not here. It’s a nice little break from being scrutinized or scolded. And I’m afraid he’ll somehow be able to tell what happened last night.
I turn on the electric kettle, then open up the fridge, pull out a breakfast sandwich and pop it into the microwave. Sixty seconds and it’ll be done and scalding hot, just like my caffeinated drink.
Sitting down at the table, I open my phone and see a message from James.
James: Be there in thirty. I have Schnitzel, fries covered in gravy, Pepsi and sweet treats.
I check when he sent the message and see it was literally thirty-five minutes ago. Before I can respond, the lights flash, telling me someone’s at the door.
Fuck me. I don’t get up. He has a key, and will be walking into the house any moment. Sure enough, he pops into the kitchen with a smile on his face that drops when he sees me take a bite of my breakfast sandwich.