Dale held his hand up. “We didn’t finish. You changed the subject, then walked away. And I rudely fell asleep. Was that decaf you made?”
“Yes.”
He moved on quickly to resume our earlier conversation. “Aspen, I don’t want you to have to leave, especially if you go into heat. You won’t be in any shape to drive.”
“I can shift and take off into the woods for a couple of days,” I said.
Dale shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. You’ll need a peaceful space and warmth.”
“I don’t want you to have to leave because of my problem.”
“Maybe another room will open up and I won’t have to go home.”
I made a face. “My heat might not happen until after New Year’s. I’ve been as much as two weeks late before.”
“You said it yourself. You can also be early.”
I huffed. “Then I’ll be the one to leave.”
“Not acceptable to me. I want you to finish your vacation here. Consider it my Christmas gift to you. I’ve made up my mind.”
I frowned until the muscles in my face began to pinch. “Just because you’re an alpha, your word is final?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. But if I stayed with you—” The unspoken words echoed between us.
If he stayed, he would respond to my scent. He wouldn’t rut. Not exactly. He was human. But he might be very uncomfortable. And sharing a bed?
“Out of the question.”
He sighed. “Again, I didn’t mean it that way. I?—”
“I know you didn’t.” I hadn’t meant to insult him. “But you’ll be around me. My scent. It won’t be peaceful for you. Your vacation will be ruined.”
His hands curled into fists. “You make it sound like I have no control over myself.”
I kept saying things that didn’t sound right out loud. “Sorry. I’m sorry for everything. That’s why I’m the one who shouldleave. It’s me fucking it all up. I should have been straight with you from the beginning. Upfront. You would never have picked me out of the crowd in the lobby then. It was wrong of me. Very wrong?—”
Dale put out his hand and touched my shoulder. “Hey. You’re talking really fast right now. Let’s just sit here for a minute.”
Silence fell between us.
After about thirty seconds, Dale said softly, “You’re not wrong. Nothing about you is wrong.”
The tone of those words communicated something more than their literal meaning.
Dale squeezed my shoulder. “Everything is right about you. At least, for me.”
I met his gentle eyes. If he had been born a shifter, he would have been a beautiful deer.
“I just feel bad—” I began.
He interrupted me again, but not in an aggressive alpha manner. This was pure Dale letting down his guard. “Don’t you feel it, too?”
“What?”
“We’re very compatible. I’m not trying to be forward. If you don’t agree, that’s okay.”
He wasn’t a stranger. Not anymore. We weren’t in a bar. And this wasn’t some stupid pickup line.
