9. Under the Stars #2
Nolan chuckles, the deep sound filling the cab. “You act tough, but you go out of your way to rescue the helpless ones.”
“Don’t ruin my reputation.” I offer a relaxed smirk. “The tough act keeps people away.”
“Not everyone.” Nolan holds my gaze for a quiet second before turning back to the windshield.
He shifts gears a few miles later, explaining the complex astronomy behind the Perseid meteor shower we plan to see.
I rest my elbow on the door console, listening to his cadence. His quiet, steady voice acts as a balm to my frayed nerves. The rich undertone of steeped black tea rolling off his skin fills the cab, keeping me grounded in the present moment.
I realize beyond the instinctual pull of our scent match; I enjoy his company. He owns a brilliant mind and a wicked, dry sense of humor. He treats me like an equal.
“The peak happens right after dusk.” Nolan glances over at me, his green eyes warm and focused. “We get a front-row seat to the best show in the solar system, zero light pollution guaranteed.”
“I plan to hold you to it.” I offer an easy grin.
Nolan pulls the truck off the main dirt road, navigating a rough, overgrown track.
We bump along the uneven terrain until we reach an elevated, secluded prairie clearing miles away from any highway lights.
The vast Colorado sky stretches above us, painted in vivid shades of deep violet and indigo.
He throws the truck into park and cuts the engine.
He hops out and walks around to the back.
Following him, I watch him pull a thick canvas tarp from the cab, spreading it flat over the dry prairie grass.
A thick foam mattress pad goes over the tarp next, topped with wool blankets and plush pillows.
Unzipping a large canvas bag reveals a sleek brass and black telescope.
He sets the tripod up right next to the makeshift bed, adjusting the side dials with practiced ease.
Grabbing a metal thermos and two ceramic mugs from the backseat, he pours a steaming liquid into one of the cups and hands it to me.
“Careful, the cider is hot.” Nolan offers a warm smile.
Bringing the rim to my lips, the sweet spice hits my nose. I take a small sip. The hot apple cider warms my chest against the cool night air.
“Come look at this.” Nolan points to the eyepiece of the scope.
I step onto the edge of the blankets. Leaning forward, I press my eye to the lens. A cluster of bright, distinct stars fills my vision.
“You see the tight star group?” Nolan steps in close behind me.
His broad chest brushes my shoulders. His large hand covers mine on the metal barrel of the scope, guiding it an inch to the right.
“The constellation is Perseus. The meteors originate right from the center point. We call it the radiant.”
His warm breath fans across my neck. The rich scent of black tea cuts through the crisp night air. A shiver trails down my spine.
“It looks incredible.” Letting the hot cider warm my hands, I take a step back to give him space.
Nolan talks about the dust trail of the Swift-Tuttle comet.
His passion for the science shines through every word.
He points out different constellations, teaching me the names of the stars forming the backdrop of the shower.
Listening to his cadence brings a wave of comfort.
He skips the Alpha posturing, choosing instead to share something he loves.
“The peak starts now.” Nolan gestures to the mattress pad. “Get comfortable.”
I crawl back onto the center of the blankets.
Nolan joins me a second later. He wraps a giant wool blanket over both of our shoulders, pulling me flush against his side to block the cool evening breeze.
We lean back against the pillows right as the first bright meteor streaks across the dark canvas overhead.
We watch the sky for a long time in comfortable silence. More meteors flash across the atmosphere, burning up in bright streaks of white and yellow. Nolan keeps his arm wrapped secure around my waist. The proximity to his heat loosens a knot deep in my chest.
Watching his jawline in the starlight, an unfamiliar ache settles in my ribs. He planned this entire night to make me smile. The genuine care he shows contradicts everything I learned about Alphas.
“You put a lot of work into this.” Shifting my weight, I turn to look at him.
Nolan keeps his eyes on the sky, a soft smile touching his lips. “I want to show you a good time, Jessie. You deserve a proper date.”
“This is a foreign concept to me.” I keep my voice low, staring up at the stars. “Dates. Courtship. Being treated like a person instead of a liability.”
Nolan shifts his weight, turning his head to look at me. “Your past experiences were bad?”
“I relied on transactional survival when it came to Heats.” I pull the wool tighter around my shoulders.
“How long have you been on your own?”
“Since I was six.” I stare at the dark horizon. “My dad died. My mom couldn’t handle the grief or the responsibility of raising me. I had zero grandparents or extended family to fall back on, so I went straight into the foster system.”
Nolan goes rigid. His jaw ticks.
“The system offers zero stability.” I force the words out, exposing the most vulnerable parts of my past. “When my Omega designation hit at fifteen, I was bouncing between group homes. Suppressants never stopped my heats. I had to endure at least two a year to prevent serious hormonal health issues. I relied on Alpha Aid programs at Omega Safehavens in whatever city I was in.”
“The process was mechanical.” I trace a finger over the edge of the blanket. “Nothing but utilitarian. They stick you in a sterile room with a vetted Alpha. You get clinical relief, zero emotion, and you leave at the end of the Heat. No names. No attachments.”
Nolan listens with fierce, reverent intensity.
His dark eyes soften behind his glasses.
He reaches up, pulls the frames off his face, and sets them on the edge of the blankets.
He shifts his body closer, boxing me in with his broad shoulders.
He reaches out and cups my jaw, his hands warm and steady against my skin.
“Those days are over, Jessie.” His thumb traces a soothing path across my cheekbone. “What we share is real. It’s personal, and it belongs to you. You set the pace. You call the shots.”
The emotional vulnerability shatters my remaining hesitation.
I reach out and press my palm flat against the solid heat of his chest. His heart hammers a frantic, demanding beat against my fingertips.
“I want you, Nolan.”
A rough groan tears from his throat. He pushes me back into the plush pillows. He claims my mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. His tongue sweeps past my teeth, carrying the sweet hint of cider. Tangling my fingers into his hair, I pull him closer.