Chapter 20 Cassian
CASSIAN
I'm standing outside the coffee shop where we agreed to meet, trying not to look too eager. But then she walks out carrying two cups, and all of my good intentions about being respectful and measured go straight out the window.
She's wearing jeans that fit her perfectly and a sweater that falls off one shoulder, revealing smooth skin that makes my hands itch to touch.
Her hair is down in waves that cascade past her shoulders, catching the light from the storefronts.
Her curls are slightly frizzy from the cold, and I've never seen anything more beautiful.
Her scent hits me before she even gets close. Strawberry and honey with something warm underneath that makes my body respond immediately. She's not using suppressants. She's made a choice to let her natural scent exist in the world, and that choice feels significant.
"Hey," she says, handing me one of the cups. "I wasn't sure if you wanted coffee or tea, so I got you what the barista said you usually order. Oat milk, two sugars, black coffee on the side because apparently you're complicated even about beverages."
I take the cup from her, and our fingers brush. Brief, accidental, but it sends electricity through my entire body.
"You remembered."
"I pay attention to people that matter to me."
We start walking, and I'm hyper-aware of how close she is. Her scent wraps around me. I want to grab her hand but I'm being respectful and patient like Logan suggested, though it's killing me.
"I didn't want you to be alone tonight," I say as we move down the street. "I am worried for your safety, but more importantly we want to keep you protected and safe. So please stay with us. There is a guest room, free and clear. Just for our peace of mind."
"Pine was with me earlier," Sharon says, a slight smile in her voice.
"He was very supportive and kind and exactly what I needed.
He listened to me ramble and held my hand while I processed the fact that the universe has a twisted sense of humor.
But he had to go back to the house to deal with something Jett needed help with.
Apparently there's some logistics issue with the Tangle Peak wedding. "
"So they left you alone."
"I wasn't alone," she corrects gently. "I was in my hotel room reading through wedding preferences and freaking out about flower arrangements. My preferred version of alone time. But I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you didn't just accept that I wanted to be by myself."
We walk through Pine Hollow, and the town is beautiful tonight.
Christmas decorations twinkling in the darkness.
Light snow starting to fall, just enough to make everything look magical.
The smell of cinnamon and pine drifts through the air, mixing with Sharon's natural scent and creating something that smells like home.
"I know a place," I say, making a decision I've been thinking about all day. "If you want to see it."
“Really?”
"It's private. Where we can talk without anyone interrupting us. "
"Okay," she says simply.
I drive us up the mountain in my truck, following a road most people don't know about. It's a hiking trail during the day, but at night, it's just a quiet place where you can see the entire town spread out below. The road winds through pine forests, and the headlights cut through the darkness.
Sharon is quiet during the drive, but it's comfortable. She's got her hand resting on my thigh, and every time I shift gears, her fingers tighten slightly. Nervous and excited and maybe a little bit scared of where this is going.
I park at the overlook, and we get out. The cold hits immediately. Crisp and clean and making my lungs burn slightly. Snow falls around us, not hard, just enough to dust the landscape in white. Sharon walks over to the railing and looks out with absolute wonder.
"Oh my god. This is incredible."
Pine Hollow spreads out below us, Christmas lights twinkling in the darkness. Mountains rise up around us, dark and majestic and ancient. The sky is so clear I can see a million stars, and the moon is full and bright enough to cast shadows.
"I come here when I need to think," I say, settling beside her.
Close enough that our shoulders are almost touching.
"When the station gets too loud. When everything gets too much and my alpha brain starts screaming for something I can't quite name.
This is where I come to remember there's beauty in the world even when things are complicated and messy. "
She leans against the railing, processing everything. The view. The moment. The two of us alone under the stars.
"Thank you for bringing me here," she says softly. "For thinking about what I might need. For understanding that sometimes alone time isn't the same as being lonely."
"I don't want you to be alone," I say, and the words come out more raw than I intended. "Not when I can be here. Not when I can be someone you can count on."
She turns to face me completely, and in the moonlight, her eyes are dark and soft.
"You're not trying to control me," she says quietly. “But protect me. There's a difference. And I appreciate that more than you probably realize."
"Sometimes my alpha brain just sees you and wants to wrap you up and keep you safe," I admit, stepping closer. "Make sure everyone in this town knows you're ours."
"Ours," she repeats softly.
"Mine. But also Pine's and Jett's because we're pack. The kind that means I'm going to protect you and care about you and want you to be happy."
She laughs, and it's real. Not nervous or uncertain.
"You're dangerous."
"Only if you want me to be."
I reach out and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek. She leans into the touch, and that small gesture tells me everything I need to know.
"Cassian."
My name on her lips sounds like a prayer.
"Tell me to stop if this is too much," I say, already moving closer. The distance between us narrowing with every heartbeat.
"Don't stop."
I kiss her, and it's nothing like the kiss from before. This one is patient and thorough and designed to make her understand exactly how much I want her. My hand finds her waist, pulling her closer, and she meets me halfway.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, kissing me back with matching intensity.
Her mouth is soft and warm, tasting like coffee and cinnamon and something sweet that's just Sharon.
My scent shifts, becoming more pronounced.
Cedar and leather and something darker that's pure alpha arousal mixed with genuine affection.
She pulls back just enough to breathe, pupils blown wide. Her scent has changed too. Strawberry and honey mixing with something deeper that smells like desire and want.
"We should probably talk about this," she says, but she doesn't pull away. Her hands are still in my hair, body still pressed against mine.
"We can talk. But I want to kiss you again.”
I kiss her again, slower this time, letting her set the pace even though every part of me wants to rush forward. My hand slides up her back, feeling the soft fabric of her sweater, the warmth of her skin underneath. She's pressed against me now, her body fitting against mine perfectly.
My other hand finds her face, cupping her jaw so I can kiss her exactly how I want to. Deeper. More intensely. The kind that leaves no question about how much I want her. How much she matters.
She makes a small sound against my mouth, a soft moan that goes straight through me. I feel it everywhere. In my chest where my heart is racing. In my stomach. Between my legs where my body is responding in ways that are becoming increasingly difficult to hide.
I pull back, resting my forehead against hers. We're both breathing hard, our breath making small clouds in the cold air.
"You're incredible," I say quietly.
"We should probably go back," she says, but her arms are still around my neck. "Before we do something we're not ready for."
"Do you want to go back?"
"No," she admits. "I want to know if what I'm feeling right now is real."
"What you're feeling is real," I say with absolute certainty.
She laughs softly. "You're funny. And charming. And dangerous. And I like it more than I probably should."
"I like you so much," I say, and the confession comes out easier than I expected. "So much that I'm here at an overlook in the middle of the night just because I didn't want you to be alone."
Her hands slide under my jacket and shirt, skin warm against mine. I'm burning up from the inside out, torn between the cold of the mountain air and the heat of her body. She's touching my chest, feeling my heartbeat, understanding what she's doing to me.
Her fingers trail across my abs, exploring, and I have to stop kissing her for a moment just to breathe. Just to remember that we said we were going to be responsible.
"Sharon."
My voice comes out rougher than I intended. A warning and a plea all at once.
"I know," she says softly, but her hands don't stop moving. They trace patterns across my skin, learning the shape of me. "I know we should take this slow, but I don't want to stop."
I capture her hands gently, bringing them to my lips and kissing her knuckles. "We have time in the world. I'm not going anywhere."
She looks up at me, and there's something vulnerable in her expression. "I really like you, Cassian. But I need time to process everything."
"I know." I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her and holding her against my chest. "I understand. I like you in a way that's starting to feel really serious. But I'm patient. I'm going to wait for you to figure out what you want. And when you're ready, I'm going to be here."
We stand there for a long moment, just breathing together. My arms are around her, and she's leaning into me like I'm the only solid thing in the world. I can feel her heart racing, matching mine beat for beat.
"We should probably go back," she whispers against my chest.
"Are you sure?"
"No. But I'm going to do it anyway because I'm trying to be responsible. I'm trying to be the kind of person who doesn't rush into things."
"You're already that person. But I understand."
I take her hand and lead her back to the truck, reluctant with every step. We sit for a while, just holding hands while the engine warms up. I drive slowly down the mountain, in no hurry to get her back to the hotel.
By the time we reach her hotel, the energy between us has shifted slightly. Not into something bad, just into something more manageable. More controlled.
"Thank you," she says as I walk her to her door. "For tonight. For the overlook. For understanding."
"Anytime."
I kiss her at the door, softer this time but no less meaningful. When I pull back, she's smiling.
"Goodnight," she whispers.
"Sweet dreams, beautiful."
I watch her go inside, and then I drive back home, and I’ll make sure to tell my brothers everything, because that's what pack does. And it hits me, I don’t just like Sharon, I’ve fallen for her hook, line and sinker.