Chapter Sixteen – Mason #3
“Alphas are supposed to have direction. We’re supposed to innately know what to do and go after it with everything we have—whether it’s a pack, a mate, or a career.
I’ve never been like that, never felt that drive.
I’ve always felt a little… empty. I guess I’m just a shitty alpha.
Sometimes I even think no one would really care if I—” I close my eyes. “—was gone.”
And by was gone, I definitely mean if I was dead, but for some reason I can’t say that particular word out loud.
Right when I start to think I said too much, got too deep, shared too much information of a personal nature, something soft touches my bicep. I open my eyes and look to find Jess had scooted closer to me, that she placed her hand on my arm.
The weirdest thing is, it doesn’t feel wrong. No, it feels as though her hand should’ve always been there. I’m oddly relaxed beneath her soft touch.
“I don’t think you’re a bad alpha,” she whispers as her hand squeezes my arm. She can’t really squeeze much since her hands are so damn small, but the thought is there, and I don’t pull away from her. I physically can’t.
I want to tell her she doesn’t know me, that there’s no way in hell she can say that and actually mean it, but again, some invisible cat has my tongue and I can’t say a word. All I can do is stare into her dark eyes and feel a sense of peace I haven’t felt in, well, ever.
“Maybe you just haven’t found where you’re supposed to be yet,” she says. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
It’s the first time anyone’s ever said something like that to me.
I am who I am and, even if I come up short, that’s okay.
There’s nothing wrong with feeling lost or empty sometimes.
There’s nothing wrong with not knowing what I want to do with the rest of my life. I’m alive, so there’s hope for me yet.
Just like there’s hope for her.
“I know a few people who are glad you’re still alive,” I tell her, wishing it didn’t sound so cheesy.
She chuckles softly and slides her hand off my arm, turning away from me as she mutters, “Oh, yeah? Who would they be? Don’t think I’ve met them before.”
“My brother, for starters. And that Rourke guy.” She tosses me a skeptical glance when I mention the other alpha in this house, which prompts me to say, “He seems way too interested in you.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “And… me.”
With a shake of her head, she whispers, “You don’t have to say that.”
“I do. I mean it.”
A small smile tugs at her lips, and although she doesn’t turn that smile toward me, I still feel some kind of way about it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a smile quite like that before. For a girl who could verbally throw down with the best, she definitely had the shy, coy smile perfected.
I don’t know why I do what I do next. It’s almost like some other being takes over me.
I lift my left hand and bring it to her face, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.
My fingertips graze the soft skin of her cheek in the process, and she sucks in a hard breath.
Those dark eyes of hers lift, meeting my stare once again—but this time, she doesn’t quickly look away. This time, we’re both caught.
My hand is still lifted, my fingers somewhat entangled in the hair I’d just tucked behind her ear. She sits mere inches away from me, and suddenly I’m all too aware of the stupid plate resting on my lap, a remnant of how this whole thing began.
I don’t want the plate on my lap. I want her there instead.
Shit. This is exactly what I was worried about. I just didn’t think I’d get caught up in her so soon. I thought her heat would pull me in. I thought my walls were up, as they always were. I thought I was prepared, thought we could easily stay away from each other.
I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong, and the big problem is I don’t know that I can stop it. I don’t know if I want to try. My brother likes her; that should be enough to make me take a step back. My brother and I aren’t a pack.
“I knew you’d be trouble,” I whisper to her. “I—” What else is there to say? What else can I say that wouldn’t scare us both away?
“I’m not trouble. If anything, it’s you alphas who’re the trouble,” she whispers back, and as she speaks, she leans closer to me, like she wants me to keep going, to keep touching her. To hold her, to kiss her.
The hand in her hair moves to her jawline, which I trace with a gentle caress. My heart comes alive in my chest, an organ I never thought I’d feel. Warmth blooms deep inside of me, along with a certain kind of need I’ve never felt before.
I lean in to her, letting instincts I’ve never had take over.
My eyelids are slow to close as my mouth nears hers.
Damn it. I’ve never wanted anything more.
This need crept up on me when I wasn’t looking.
I thought I was prepared, but I guess not.
I guess you can’t really be prepared for something like this.
Our lips are mere inches apart when, suddenly, Jess jerks away from me.
“I’m sorry. I—I can’t.” She pulls away from me and hops to her feet, and before her denial of me has any time to sink in, she runs to the doors and hurries inside the house, leaving me outside, my hand still outstretched as if she’s there.
Fucking hell. My hand falls, and I shake my head at myself. Now that she’s not near, I can think clearly again.
What the hell was I thinking? Getting involved in her, in this whole thing, will only lead to disaster and heartbreak.
She clearly doesn’t want a pack or even a single match.
Letting myself have any sort of feelings for her would is a dead-end street.
Logically, that knowledge should deter me, but will it?
I have the feeling I already know the answer, but I don’t want to admit it.