Chapter 14 Alpha Weirdo #2
“Freeman. Fraser.” He approached our table with fake surprise that wouldn't fool a toddler. “Crazy running into you guys here.”
“This is your coffee shop,” Tyson said, clearly amused. “You told me about it. You said you come here every day after training.”
“Do I? Huh.” Gryff's eyes darted between us, taking in our body language. “Everything okay?”
“We're having an adventure,” Tyson said, grinning. “Your roommate just tried to romance me using what I can only assume is advice from a 1950s dating manual.”
“That's... specific,” Gryff said carefully.
“She ordered me a drink that could rot my teeth, stared into my soul for thirty seconds, announced she's bad in bed, and then tried to face-plant into a kiss.” Tyson was openly laughing now.
Gryff's eyes went wide. “She did all that?”
“The trust exercises were supposed to work,” I protested.
“Trust exercises?” Tyson looked between us with interest. “Is that what's been going on? You two have been—“
“Nothing,” we both said too quickly.
“Right.” Tyson stood up, still looking thoroughly entertained. “I'm gonna go. Artemis, you're awesome, but maybe next time just be yourself? You were great at the beach. Natural. Easy.” He paused. “Of course, you had your emotional support roommate there, so maybe that helped.”
He clapped Gryff on the shoulder. “See you at practice.”
After he left, Gryff and I stood there in the middle of the coffee shop.
“That went well,” Gryff said weakly.
“He thinks I'm insane.”
“He thinks you're trying too hard. There's a difference.”
“The trust exercises didn't work at all.” I slumped into a chair. “Everything we've been practicing just made things worse.”
“Maybe they're not meant to work with everyone,” he said quietly.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Come on, let's go home.”
Back at the house, I sat on the couch replaying the disaster while Gryff made apology brownies in the kitchen. Well, reheated store-bought brownies, but it was the thought that counted.
“I don't understand what went wrong,” I said for the fifth time. “The eye contact thing works perfectly when we do it.”
“Maybe it's different with different people,” he offered, bringing me a brownie.
“But it shouldn't be. It's just a technique. A skill. Like... like a rugby play. It should work the same no matter who I'm doing it with.”
“Rugby plays work because your whole team knows them. Maybe intimacy is the same. It requires the right partner.”
I looked at him, something clicking in my brain. “I couldn't kiss him.”
“You tried. You just missed.”
“No, I mean... even if I hadn't collided with his face, it would have been wrong. There was no... spark. No anticipation. Nothing like...”
“Like what?”
“Like when we almost kissed during our exercises.”
The words hung between us. We'd never actually talked about those moments, the times when our practice had gotten so intense we'd nearly crossed that line.
“We've never actually kissed,” he said carefully.
“No.”
“Maybe that's the problem.” I knew what we needed to do. “Maybe I need to practice actual kissing. Not just the lead-up.”
My heart started racing. “It's the only thing we haven't covered in our trust exercises.”
“That's true.” My mouth was suddenly dry. “So you think we should... practice?”
Gryff took a deep breath and I couldn't tell what it meant. Was he about to tell me to fuck off? He scooted a little closer. “It would be the logical next step.”
“Right. Logical.” I turned to face him fully. “But what if you don't want to? What if it makes things weird?”
“Artie—“
“Because I know we're just friends and this is just practice but kissing seems like a big line to cross and what if—“
He grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me.
It wasn't gentle or tentative or practice-like.
It was immediate and overwhelming and absolutely perfect.
His lips were soft but insistent, one hand sliding into my hair while the other cupped my jaw.
I made a sound, surprise or relief or both, and he deepened the kiss, pulling me closer until I was practically in his lap.
Every kiss I'd ever had paled in comparison. This wasn't awkward or forced or performative. It was like coming home. Like finding something I didn't know I'd been looking for. My whole body lit up, every nerve ending singing, and I kissed him back with everything I had.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
“Oh,” I said brilliantly.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his hands still in my hair.
“That was...” Not very practice-like. Better do it again to make sure. “Kiss me again.”
“Thank god,” he breathed, and pulled me back in.
This time was slower, deeper. His hands were everywhere, my hair, my back, pulling me closer, and I let myself melt into him completely.
When we broke apart again, I was fully in his lap, my arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against mine.
“So,” I said, trying to catch my breath, “I think I know how to kiss now.”
Well, I knew how to kiss Gryff. My best friend. My roommate. And I think I just changed everything.