“Why are you so scared of sharks?” he asks, turning the fish. “Was there an incident? Surfing?”
I pick at a loose thread on my towel. “No. I just… I watched too many documentaries growing up, and I guess—” I stop. “I always kind of assume any good thing I have is going to be taken away at some point. So when I was under there watching the fish and feeling happy, part of me was waiting for the bad thing. When the shark showed up, my body said,There it is, of course, knew it was coming.”
He turns the fish without looking at me directly. I appreciate that. He’s giving me room to say the thing without making it a staring contest.
“That’s a hard way to move through the world,” he says after a moment.
“At least you don’t get disappointed if you’re already expecting it.”
“It’s still hard.”
“Yeah.” I shrug, too fast. “I know.”
He puts together a wrap for me and hands it over on a small plate with a paper napkin, then sits beside me on the cushioned bench with his meal.
“We’re going to change that,” he says simply.
I glance up at him. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes.” He holds my attention. “Every time you’re scared, I’m going to be there. When something good happens and you start waiting for the shark, I’m going to be there too. Same with Ace and Luca. We’ll keep showing up until your body learns that the good thing doesn’t always come with a price.” He picks up his own wrap. “You belong with us. I need you to start letting yourself believe that.”
Everything in my chest squeezes so tight that it’s suddenly hard to swallow the bite I’ve taken. I make myself chew slowly as I stare out at the water so he can’t see my face.
“North,” I say, when I finally can. “A scent match doesn’t just make family. Biology doesn’t automatically fix anything. Sometimes the people who are biological family members don’t even get that part right.”
“As I told you before. My parents didn’t love me, and I accepted that a long time ago. What I feel around you isn’t that. This is the first thing I’ve ever trusted to be real without second-guessing my feelings. And I’m going to show you, however long it takes, that this is the real thing.” He takes a bite. Chews. Swallows. “You don’t have to be alone again. You have a pack now, whether you’re ready to use that word or not.”
I sit very still. The water stretches out in front of us. The fish wrap is warm in my hand, and I’m slightly shaking.Please,I think at the universe, at the sky, at whatever is listening.Please don’t take this away from me. Please do not let me find out that this is the kind of good thing you collect back.
“I would love that,” I whisper. “Genuinely.”
He bumps his knee against mine, and it’s such a small thing, so unceremonial, that I have to blink fast at the horizon for a second.
I eat the wrap because it’s extraordinary. I tell him so between bites, and he seems quietly pleased with himself.
North grabs us cold cans of pop out of the cooler. He hands me mine, and I take a long sip, then lean back against the cushions. Without fully deciding to, I find myself resting against him, just a little, shoulder to shoulder.
He doesn’t move but settles into it.
Some amount of time passes, and it’s peaceful. His arm goes along the back of the bench behind me, and eventually the tips of his fingers start tracing the outside of my upper arm slowly. It is beautiful and sends wonderful goose bumps down my arm. Then the sensation goes through me in a way that is not subtle.
My body has been building toward this for days. The trace of his fingertips feels like it’s being broadcast on every frequency in my body, and the warm, low, insistent pull between my legs that I have been pretending isn’t there has decided to stop being polite about it.
My heat is close. I can feel it in every nerve, and here I am, surrounding myself with the most attractive Alphas in the world.
I stand up abruptly, stepping out from under his arm, needing space to breathe, worried I might just lose myself to my heat. “Look at that,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the water, pretending something in it has caught my attention.
“Mm,” he says and doesn’t move for a second. Then I hear him stand.
I walk to the far side of the boat, rest my hands on the rail, and pretend to look at something on the horizon that doesn’t exist, because being against that bench with him was about to be a problem I couldn’t talk my way out of.
I turn around, and he’s right there.
There’s no air between us. My back is against the rail, and he’s braced one hand on the edge beside me, the other hanging loose at his side. He’s close enough that I can see the pulse in his throat, close enough that his scent is all I can smell.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment. His knuckles come up to brush my cheek, and the trail of sensation burns me up from the inside out. “I’m not going to ask you for anything you don’t want. I know you’ve been with Ace and Luca, and I’ve been patient.”
“I know.”
