Her thumb brushes my arm, a small, tender movement. “You’re already doing it.”
CHAPTER 18
Lakelyn
Chad shifts in the booth,turning to face me fully, and the sudden closeness makes my heart thud against my ribs. His knee bumps against mine again, not in an accidental way but deliberate, as if he’s daring me to react. I could tell he was surprised to see me when I first arrived, and a part of me wants to go drill Mason on why he was sitting with him. I’m pretty sure they were leaning toward each other when I arrived. But I have no clue how to bring that up.
I don’t want to be jealous. I’m not, I tell myself. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.
Chad takes a long, thoughtful sip of his drink, drawing out the moment. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says after what feels like an eternity, his eyes flickering up to meet mine. “Which alpha are we going to get for you first?”
I raise an eyebrow, letting out a short laugh. “You mean for us?”
He shrugs casually, but this time, his gaze holds mine, and there's no hiding the glint of mischief. “Yeah, for us.”
I watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, the slow, lazy movement drawing my attention like it’s something I can’t helpbut track. The corners of his mouth curl slightly, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“My brother might murder me if I say Mason,” I mutter, half-joking, but the truth hangs between us.
Chad’s smile spreads, slow and confident. “Why just Mason?”
I let out a heavy sigh, sinking back against the booth cushion, trying to create some space between the electric pull I feel with him sitting so close. “They’ve been best friends since the seventh grade,” I say, almost automatically. My fingers fidget with the hem of my sleeve, twisting it as I think about how complicated things might get.
Chad’s eyes don’t leave mine, and I can feel his curiosity, like he’s waiting for something more. His presence is overwhelming—intense in a way that makes it hard to think straight.
I take a deep breath and let my eyes drop, trying to ground myself, but it doesn’t help. The space between us feels smaller by the second, and my mind drifts back to that moment—seeing him and Mason leaning in, closer than I’d ever seen them before. The unspoken question lingers in the back of my mind, but I can’t quite bring myself to ask it.
“And that’s what would upset your brother?” Chad asks, his voice slow, like he’s piecing it together but still doesn’t quite get it.
I laugh, the sound easing some of the tension that’s been building inside me. I nibble on my lower lip and shrug, knowing it’s not much of an answer. So, I take a breath and say, “When we were teens, it was pretty obvious to my whole family that I had a crush on Mason. My parents teased me about it, and Landon… well, he got weirdly possessive of him. He was going through a lot—hormones kicking in after he presented as an alpha and all that. But anytime I tried talking to Mason, Landon would finda reason to interrupt, like he couldn’t stand the thought of us being together. He made me promise not to date him.”
I pause, tracing a pattern on the table with my fingertip, memories stirring up things I don’t normally think about. “We used to hang out, Mason and I. Talk about art, life, random stuff. But Landon? He’d make sure it didn’t last long. Eventually, he got his hormones under control, and things got better, but it was always clear he didn’t want us together. Then… I didn’t present at all, and whatever crush I had on Mason just stayed that way—one-sided.”
Chad leans back, crossing his arms with a smile playing on his lips. “So let me get this straight—you, the absolute goddess sitting in front of me, discovered your crush on Mason, and your brother, in all his alpha glory, played bodyguard to keep you two apart?” He raises an eyebrow, like the whole idea is absurd. “And Mason never saw what was right in front of him?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand, cutting me off with a wink. “But don’t worry, Lakelyn. I’ll make sure Mason sees exactly what he’s been missing this whole time. Trust me, by the time I’m done, he’ll be kneeling at your feet, begging for a chance that he’s too dumb to realize he blew ages ago.”
He flashes me a grin, full of confidence, like it’s not even a question. “And when he does, you’ll be the one deciding if he’s worth your time—because, let’s be real, you’ve always been too much for him to handle. He just didn’t know it yet.”
My heart does a little flip, but I shake my head, trying to stay grounded. “Chad, I’m just a beta. It’s not like I’m?—”
“Stop right there,” Chad interrupts, his tone sharper now but not unkind. His hand reaches for me, lightly brushing mine. “Just a beta? Who made you believe that nonsense?”
I shrug, feeling a little sheepish. “I mean, it’s just the truth. I didn’t present, and I’m not?—”
“Lakelyn, please,” he says, sitting up straighter, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “You don’t need to be an alpha to command a room. You don’t need to present at all to own everything about yourself. You think your worth is tied to a title? Fix your crown, because you’re already a queen. And the second you start believing it, the rest of them—including Mason—won’t stand a chance.”
I blink at him, caught off guard by the conviction in his voice. He doesn’t even flinch, his expression dead serious. It’s like he’s willing me to see what he sees, refusing to let me shrink into the shadows.
“Beta, alpha, omega, whatever—you’re more than any of that. And anyone who doesn’t see it? They’re either blind, stupid, or both.” He tilts his head with that playful smirk again. “I’ll help Mason see it, but he’s gonna have to work for it. And you’re gonna make him earn every second of your time.”
My teeth sink into my lip, and he lifts his hand up and frees it with the softest touch. “Every second?” I whisper.
He nods. “Yes, every second, and there are going to be thousands of them, all filled with your pleasure.”
Chad’s warmthclings to me as I make my way to the shop Mason and I are setting up—his tattoo studio to ink his art on people, and my space to create the art I’ll sell. His words echo in my head, a quiet promise I can’t shake, as I push through the door and step inside.
Mason’s music fills the air, loud enough to cover my entrance. He’s working, hammer in hand, framing out a new wall. The sight stops me in my tracks. Muscles shift under his skin with every swing, smooth and powerful, the rhythmic thudof the hammer almost hypnotic. His scent—pure campfire with that hint of toasted marshmallow—wraps around me, rich and familiar. I breathe it in deep, letting it settle in my chest.
