Page 35 of Bonded By Tea and Tarot

“You too,” Sage says, while Riley hollers, “You got this!”

I barely make it another hour before giving into the urge to text her.

Me: How did the date go?

Siobhan: I was just about to text you! Spooky.

Siobhan: It was… Okay, then bad, then better, then bad, then good?

I stare at my phone. What in the hell does that mean?

Siobhan: Easier to explain over the phone. Can I call?

I immediately press the phone symbol to call her, and she picks up on the first ring. “Yeah, so I kinda made a fool of myself, but both of them did too.”

“Tell me everything,” I reply, my heart settling now that I have her husky voice in my ear.

It’s only after we hang up that I realize she didn’t mention whether she told them about me or not.

It’s finally Monday afternoon, and I’m readying the room for our tai chi class when Siobhan’s scent douses me in fresh, rich masala chai. I spin around to see her striding—no, stalking—over to me, and my eyes widen in alarm. There’s still twenty minutes before class starts, how did she get in here so early?

“What—”

“I want you,” Siobhan says, interrupting me. She throws her shoulders back, tips her chin up, and glares at me as though I’m about to deny her whatever she’s determined to have. Which is apparently…

“You want… me?”

“Yes. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time I was on that date.” She starts pacing back and forth in front of me, her scent hinting at over-steeped tea. “What if Aury doesn’t want a pack with alphas? Why isn’t he here with me? I don’t want a pack without him.” She stops and throws her arms out to the sides, glaring at me again.

I shake my head, eyes feeling far too wide for my face, unsure what to say.

“Why aren’t we together, Aury?” she demands.

“I—” My mouth gapes like a fish. “I don’t know?”

She huffs a disgruntled breath and her hands drop to her hips. “Well, I want to be. I want to date. I want us to be official. So I can tell those alphas it’s both of us or nothing.”

Her shoulders slump and her hands fall from her hips as she loses steam. I take a step forward, worried all of a sudden that she might get dizzy and fall. It’s only been one week since her concussion, after all, and she’s supposed to be on limited activity for a minimum of two.

“I don’t want to move forward without you,” she says, her voice soft this time.

A confusing contrast of relief and disbelief swirl through me. I step closer, closing the distance between us, and she tips forward until her nose presses to the top of my neck. I wrap one arm around her then cup her jaw with my other hand, turning her face back up to mine.

“I don’t want anything without you, Moonbeam.” My voice is as soft as hers, but no less passionate. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you either. Everything about you calls to me. Whatever you want, I’m in. I’d be honored to be with you.”

Her eyes turn glassy and her bottom lip wobbles, but she smiles up at me. She bites her lip, hiding the tremble, and I pull her tight to my chest, wrapping both arms around her this time. She nods frantically, the top of her head brushing against my jaw, and I tip my cheek to scent mark her. It’s not normally something betas do, as our scents are much more muted, but my instincts guide me to do so anyways.

She melts into me at the gesture, and her arms wrap around my waist, hands fisting in my loose workout shirt. I hold her for perfect moments that I wish could be endless.

“It’s nearly time for class,” I murmur. I press a kiss to the crown of her head, and she pulls away, swiping her fingers under her eyes.

She grins up at me, then rises on her toes to press a return kiss to my lips. Her touch sears through me. It’s heady and humbling, more than I ever imagined. Sweet and pure, strong and intentional, just like her. I grin against her, breathing her essence deep into my lungs, and she sighs as she pulls away.

I glance at the clock, realizing there are probably a group of grannies waiting in the hallway for me to open the door so we can begin.

The entirety of the class is a game of torturous flirting: light touches, heated glances, sinuous movements. A contradiction of exquisite torment.

Chapter Twenty-One