Page 40 of The Alpha’s Chosen Mate

Chapter Nineteen

HARRISON

21 Years Old, December 26, 1993

“Where are we going?”

Emily asks her question before I’m even in the driver’s seat of my red truck. She’s so excited, so antsy that she doesn’t even reach for her seat belt.

I lean across her, grab the belt, and guide it across her body, kissing her on the nose as I snap the buckle into place. “Patience, Em.”

“But—”

“It won’t be a surprise if I tell you now, will it?” I tuck her hair behind her ear and move my lips down to hers. “I promise you’ll like it,” I whisper before swiftly kissing her.

She leans forward to follow my mouth, but I’m already starting the truck and pulling out of my parking spot. My teasing smile grows. She huffs in frustration, crossing her arm as she slumps against her seat.

Emily stares out the window for most of the drive into the city. I don’t push her to talk. Beneath her excitement is something else, something we’re both feeling—nervousness. In a few short hours, she’ll be twenty-one, and we’ll know for sure if we’re mates.

I’m certain we are. All the signs point to it being true. Brad told me his wolf grew more attached to Stephanie and that her scent became more irresistible as time wore on. The same has happened with Emily for me. My lycan is obsessed with her, and she smells sweeter by the day. I’m more drawn to her now than I ever have been.

All that’s left to do is wait until midnight to confirm it.

When we’re closer to our destination, I take her hand in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. As she glances at me, a smidgen of tension falls from her shoulders. It’s not enough, but it’s something.

“We’re here.” I nod at the hotel I park in front of.

Emily’s eyes widen. I can’t blame her. Owned by our pack, it’s the nicest hotel in town, with a two-story penthouse suite that I’ve reserved for us tonight.

“Are we eating here?” she asks as I open the truck door for her.

“Yes.”

I take her hand and guide her through the lobby doors and into the elevator without stopping at the front desk. Brad picked up the room key for me earlier, so I pull it from my pocket and punch the button for the penthouse. Emily is too busy admiring the mirrored interior of the elevator to notice. I take advantage of her distraction and trap her against the wall, my hands resting on her hips as I capture her mouth with mine. She melts into me immediately, draping her arms around my neck and parting her lips, letting my tongue sweep into her mouth. I kiss her until she’s breathless, until she starts making the little noises of pleasure I’ve grown to love. And I keep kissing her until she’s so focused on me that she doesn’t notice the elevator ding or the doors open.

I back away, and just like in my truck, she tries to follow, but I’m already out of reach.

“I thought we were getting dinner,” she says as I lead her out of the elevator. She scans the penthouse foyer. “Is this the restaurant?”

“No.” My lips twitch as I unlock the door with the key she still hasn’t noticed. “It’s not the restaurant.”

We step inside, and Emily’s eyes widen once more when she sees the massive, opulent penthouse.

She spins around. “This is too much, Harrison.”

“This is only a small part of your gift. The tip of the iceberg.” I point to the gift box Brad left when he came here earlier. “That’s the rest of your gift.”

She shakes her head but crosses to the coffee table and picks up the box that’s no bigger than the palm of her hand. She arches a brow, but I gesture at it again, encouraging her to open it.

Emily slowly tugs at the white ribbon surrounding the red box, letting it fall to the floor. When she lifts the lid from the box, she almost drops it. “Harrison!”

“I know you never bought your own,” I say as she takes out the key to her new car and stares at it, slack-jawed.

Our eyes meet, and hers shine with happiness, surprise, and gratitude.

Wasting no time, she sets it back on the table, rushes across the room, and throws herself at me. She hugs me tightly, then leans back with a smirk. “I have a gift for you too, actually.”

“But it’s not my birthday.”