Page 33 of The Werewolf’s Study Date

Her hand shifts over my chest, pressing flat over my heart, which refuses to slow.

"You're nervous," she says quietly.

"I've been nervous since September."

She watches me, searching my face. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because you're human," I say. "When a wolf recognizes their mate, the instinct hits immediately. I caught your scent and I knew. There wasn't any doubt. But you walked out of the library that first day with a study schedule and my phone number. If I'd sat down across from you and told you that you were my fated mate, you would've panicked and left. And you wouldn't have come back."

"So you made the choice for me."

"I chose to wait so you could actually get to know me first." I lean in a fraction, needing her to hear this. "Fate isn't permission, Maisie. You came to this school to become a veterinarian, not to end up as somebody's mate. I wanted you to know me before you had to decide what that word meant. I didn't want you looking at me and feeling trapped, or feeling like you owed me something just because of my biology."

She looks down at her hand against my shirt.

"I still wish you'd told me sooner," she says.

"You're right." I don't make excuses. "You're right, and I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you?"

"I was scared," I say bluntly. "Every time I thought about telling you, I was terrified I'd mess it up and lose you. That's not noble. It was just fear."

She studies me for a second, her expression softening just a fraction. "And what about earlier? When we were on the couch. You stopped."

"Because the bite is permanent," I tell her, my voice dropping low. "Completing a bond changes you down to your DNA. It can't be undone. I want you—I want you so badly my teeth ache—but I stopped because you deserve to make that choice with your eyes completely open. Not in the middle of making out on my couch."

She lets out a small, quiet breath. "Okay. That's... that's a good reason."

"I know it didn't feel like one ten minutes ago."

She lets out a short, real laugh, and the sound of it loosens the tight knot in my chest.

Then she looks right at me again. "Boone. If there wasn't a bond... if none of that existed, would you still want me?"

The question stings, but I understand why she needs to ask it. I lift a hand from her waist, move it up slowly so she sees it coming, and cup the side of her jaw.

"Can I tell you what the bond actually did?" I ask.

She nods slightly against my palm.

"It gave me your scent," I say. "It told my body that you're the person I can mate with. That's the only thing fate gave me. It didn't tell me that you chew the cap of your pen when you're stressed. It didn't tell me that you second-guess your answers on quizzes and then get furious when your first instinct was right. And it didn't tell me that you'd steal my sweatshirts and pretend you just got cold." My thumb moves slowly over her cheekbone. "The bond gave me recognition. You're the one who made me fall in love with you. If the bond disappeared tomorrow, I'd still be sitting right here, holding you, hoping like hell you'd let me keep you."

She stares at me, her eyes unguarded. After a moment, she turns her face slightly into my palm.

"I'm not saying no," she whispers.

"I know."

"I just need space to sort my head out. Everything's tangled up right now, and I need to figure out what I want without all the noise."

"That's fair," I say. "Take whatever time you need."

"I don't want to stop seeing you."

"Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."

She stays still for one more beat, close and warm. Then she leans up and presses her mouth to mine. It's soft, quick, deliberate.