“I want to go home.” It’s a whimper, a plea that I know won’t be answered. “Please. Don’t make me do this. I need to go home.”
Unfamiliar hands clutch at my shoulders, and though I shouldn’t, I melt into the touch.
“Ariana.” Grant’s voice is wobbly with emotion that he is borrowing from me.
What does he have to be upset about? He got what he wanted, right? A joke on the silly Omega. The foolish, terrified Omega, who couldn’t leave her house, is now having a panic attack in front of the cameras.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me. I can’t be here. I can’t do this.”
“You can.” His grip is gentle but sturdy, and he moves into my field of vision. “I know you can. You’ve always been stronger than you think you are. Remember when your groceries were left on the curb? You went out, and you got them. You were terrified, but you pushed past your fears and did it. Do you remember what I told you?”
I stare at him, mouth gaping like a fish. I remember that happening, of course, but having the memory attached to Grant, someone I don’t know, is off-putting.
“I told you that sometimes a step can feel like a mile, and it’s okay if it takes you some time to take them.”
“That… that was you?”
The mantra I repeated to myself to get here was his?
Hurt flickers in his eyes before he looks away from me. “Yeah, that was me.” After a moment, he kneels in front of me, hands slipping off my arms. “You took so many steps to get here, baby. It’s okay to be worn out, it’s okay to be scared. But you have already come this far. Look how strong you are. How brave. Don’t turn around, or all those steps were for nothing.”
My heavy, panicked breaths are the only sound in the room.
I can’t do this.
I can’t.
“Where are your anxiety meds? Are they in your bag?”
“Yeah, front pocket.”
I watch as Grant rustles around in my duffel bag. I know nothing about him, and yet he feels familiar. He called me ‘baby,’ like he’s done a hundred times before, and he knows me well enough to find my meds for me.
Who is he?
He is Sax, but he isn’t.
Those late-night texts where I felt like the center of the universe. The three words we danced around for years but never said.
Were they his?
“Do you love me?”
My question shocks him so much that he drops the pill bottle.
“What?”
“Do you love me, Grant? You say you know me, and you say all these things that I recognize but sound so strange coming from your mouth. You know all of these things about me, but I know nothing about you. Nothing but your name and your scent. So tell me this one thing about you. Do you love me?”
He takes a few steps closer to me, gently grabbing my face with his soft hands. His slim chest is heaving, his eyes are shiny, and he looks at me like I am the answer to all of his problems. “Yes, Ariana. I love you. So fucking much.”
Then he presses his lips to mine.
Chapter Nine
I should pull away.
I should put my hands on his chest and shove him to the floor for his impropriety.
