"I would have kissed you."
"Why didn't you? After?"
"Because I was terrified. Still am." I take a breath.
"Seth.” Her hand finds my arm.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm playing a part. Like everyone else got the manual for how to be a good alpha and I just got the anxiety."
"You're a great alpha," she says fiercely, and there's something raw in her voice. "You're kind and patient and you actuallylisten. Do you know how rare that is?"
"Bea—"
"I'm serious. Terrance never listened. He'd already decided what I needed before I opened my mouth. But you—" Her voice cracks slightly. "You ask. You check in. You make me feel safe without making me feel trapped."
"That's all I want. For you to feel safe."
"I do." She's quiet for a beat. "It's terrifying how safe you make me feel. How much I want—" She stops, shakes her head. "God, your scent. I can't think straight."
She turns to look at me. "You're not even looking at the view."
"I'm looking at you."
Her breath catches. "Seth?—"
"I can't stop looking at you. You're so beautiful it hurts."
Her scent spikes—sharp and sweet and desperate. "You can't just say things like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because—" She's unbuckling, sliding across the bench seat. "Because it makes me want to do this."
She kisses me.
And I completely freeze.
Her lips are soft against mine, her hands coming up to frame my face, and my brain just—stops. Every thought evaporates. I can't remember how to move, how to breathe, how to do anything except sit here like a terrified statue.
She pulls back, concern flickering across her face. "Seth? Are you okay?"
"I—yeah—sorry—" The words tumble out. "I just—you surprised me—I didn't?—"
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No!" Too loud. Too desperate. I clear my throat. "No. Please don't stop. I just—I'm not—I don't know what I'm doing."
Understanding softens her expression. "Hey. It's okay."
"It's not okay. You're—and I'm—" I run a hand through my hair. "I've kissed you exactly three times. Total. In my entire life. And I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with my hands or where to—I'm going to screw this up?—"
"Seth." She cups my face, making me look at her. "Breathe."
I breathe. Sort of.
"There's no supposed to," she says softly, but there's an edge to her voice. Like she's barely holding onto control herself. "Just do what feels good."
"Everything feels good. That's the problem." My voice comes out strained. "You're sitting this close and you smell so good and I can't think straight and?—"
