I bobble my head back and forth. “You could. But you won’t. Now tell me your ideal date.”
“Something quiet. Somewhere we can actually talk. Somewhere the world doesn’t feel so present.”
“Like what?”
“Tea. A walk. Watching the waves. Something small… but real.”
He glances away as he says the last word, like it's painful for him to admit. I get it. Half of my answers were painful for me to admit too.
“Lazy Sunday activity?”
“Cooking breakfast for my pack before they even wake up.” He flushes a little, then adds. “Acts of service are… kind of my love language.”
I smile, ignoring the way that makes my heart tumble in my chest. “I could have guessed that.” It's in the way he’s always hovering around his pack, in the way he anticipates their needs before they realize they need something. In the quiet way he watches them.
“Biggest turn-on?”
He stares at me for the longest time, his cheeks flushing a deeper pink, that I find adorable.
“Kindness,” he eventually answers.
“That’s it?” I ask, a little flabbergasted. “Are you just, like, popping boners everywhere you go?”
He laughs, rich and deep and full bodied. And damn, I want to make him laugh like that all the time. “Kindness is rarer than people think.”
“How sad that that’s true.” And it really is. “Red flag?”
“A little mischief. A little chaos.”
“Chaos turns you on, dimples? I never would have guessed that.” I flick a sneaky little glance over to Tristan. “If you like chaos, he must be at the top of your list.”
He chuckles again, but quieter this time. “Maybe chaos was the wrong word. A little trouble. I don’t meanbadtrouble. I mean the kind where someone’s eyes gleam when they get an idea they know they shouldn’t follow… but do anyway.”
I hum. I think he thinks he’s describing me… and he might be right. More often than not I’m the one who comes up with some wild idea and drags others along behind me. Or I used to be at least. Mostly with Haven, before she found her pack.
“If you weren’t here today, where would you be?”
“Probably reorganizing everyone’s schedules. Or cooking. Or… honestly? Talking to you, if I could.”
It's a shot right to my heart. Direct hit. This beta male is too freaking sweet and that is not fair in the slightest.
“That’s a boring way to spend a Sunday,” I mutter to cover it up and when his face falls, like I’ve gutted him, and guilt swells. So I reach out and squeeze his hand. “You’d be much better off climbing in my blanket fort to cuddle with me. We could talk there.”
Those soft, sweet eyes of his melt even more, warming and a shy little smile curves his lips. “Yeah, that’s what I’d be doing.”
Heat crawls over my chest and up my cheeks.
“Dealbreaker?”
Piers’ mouth opens then closes. His gaze flits around the room landing on Forsythe. Mine does too, as the prince bends closer to Petal, listening to what she has to say, until he seemsto feel us watching him, and his own honey brown eyes flick up. Piers doesn’t look away. “People who use ‘duty’ as an excuse to be unintentionally dismissive.”
It’s gentle, but firm. Soft, but devastating. An insight into what their pack life is like.
And it breaks my fucking heart.
He shakes his head. “I mean… responsibilities matter. But kindness should never be optional.”
“That’s not a dealbreaker,” I tell him gently. “That’s a standard, dimples.”
