“When are you going to tell me what happened that night?”
I move my green beans around with my fork. “What night?”
“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”
He thought something traumatizing happened, that was clear enough, but I don’t have any answers that will satisfy him.
“Never, if I can help it.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m fast becoming that sad old alpha on the sidelines, longing for a different result year in and year out.”
“You’ve only ever dated betas. Why are you so into the idea of matehood now?”
“I was nevernotinto it. But I always wanted it to be special. I suppose I was saving myself for her, in a way.”
I grimace. “Right. Saving yourself for your mate by drowning in beta pussy.”
He goes quiet. Retortless, for once.
“You could be waiting forever to find your mate.”
“I could. And that scares the shit out of me.”
“So Cassandra is what, a holding pattern?”
He shrugs. “We’re friends. It may be comfortable, but that doesn’t mean we’re right for one another.”
“And how does she feel about that?”
“She’s getting tired of waiting. All her beta friends are getting married, starting families.”
I clench my teeth. “I see.”
Talking about Cassandra puts me on edge. I don’t know if it’s better or worse that he’s stayed with the woman he abandoned me for. I think I’d hate her either way, as unfair as that is to her.
We finish our meal in silence, and by the end of our session, a summer storm sweeps in and begins a steady downpour outside. The kind of storm I like to stay in and watch through a window, but don’t want to be out in. It shows no signs of letting up.
I eye the umbrella Connor propped by the door. Fucking alpha. Always perfectly prepared.
He won’t offer it to me—he’ll make me ask, make me practice needing and accepting things from him, and there’s no way I’m asking.
I check the clock, then start digging through my purse for my keys. I’ll need them at the ready if I’m going to make a mad dash through the rain to my car.
Connor tsks his tongue against his teeth.
“So stubborn. If you’re not going to ask to borrow it, then at least let me walk you to your car.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you think you’ll make more tips if you spend all shift looking like a drowned rat?”
Ugh. He’s right, and I need every dollar I can conjure if I have to buy suppressants from Jamie. Her lack of timely response is a good indicator that supply is scarce, which means her price will go up yet again.
“Fine.”
We leave the library together, drawing the eyes of patrons and staff alike. Connor Masters is a local legend, and his stature makes him impossible to miss. I imagine there’s no end to the gossip about what exactly we get up to in the study room.
We exit the alarm doors, and he pops the umbrella open with one smooth motion, then gestures for me to come closer. As we walk, he centers me beneath the umbrella, leaving his whole left side to get soaked. Walking so close to him, with his warmth and mass brushing against my back, makes me feel safe.
