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With an approving smirk that makes my knees weak, he slowly pads his way over, walking straight past the breakfast bar and stopping in front of me. He grabs me by the hips, dragging me into his chest, and my breath stutters.
“Thank you,” he says gruffly, his lids lowering as he bends down to close the distance between us. “You didn’t have to do that.”
The kiss that follows takes my breath away, and I forget what to do with my hands. I just stand there like an idiot while my brain catches up, and then I kiss him back.
“I know,” I say with a shrug as I slip out of his grip, hurrying around the bar to take a seat on my barstool. “Consider it payback.”
“Payback?” He laughs, taking the seat next to me. “So now we’re in competition?”
I shrug and smirk, too giddy to behave normally.
“No,” I say. “But you’re always taking care of me. I wanted to return the favor.”
He stares at me for a long moment before tearing his eyes away and focusing on his food.
"It's been a long time since I've let anyone cook for me, much less take care of me," he says as he starts to eat. "I think it was a conscious decision to keep anyone away. I didn't want to let anyone make themselves permanent."
My stomach wiggles, feeling like it's floating. So there was actually a reason for him always making breakfast for me, a reason why he never wanted me to help.
Just like me, he's independent. He doesn't want anyone taking care of him because he doesn't want to get attached. I'd be willing to bet he's worried about losing someone else.
Just like me.
It seems we have more in common than I thought.
"And now?" I force myself to ask, despite my mouth feeling dry and the words sounding strained. "How do you feel?"
It's a dangerous question, teetering on the edge of a serious conversation. It’s something with deep rooted feelings, something I've fantasized about, but the thought of talking about it makes my skin feel too tight, makes my heart race and my fingers numb.
He hesitates, taking a few bites with an unreadable expression. My nerves have devoured my appetite, and I don't think I could even chew my food right now without being nauseous.
Not until he answers.
I hadn't expected this morning to take such a raw, serious turn, but now I'm hanging by a thread, waiting for his response.
"Well," he says, making the knot in my chest do a sickening twist, before setting his fork down and looking over at me.
Damn it. Why do I turn to a puddle every time his dark, powerful eyes land on me?
“It’s a nice change of pace, I think,” he admits.
Not as deep or personal as I was expecting, but it’s a good place to start. I relax a tiny bit, but my insides are still knotted into a pretzel.
Before I can open my mouth to say anything else, he speaks again.
“I like having you around, Jessa. I think you know that.” he says. “You’ve probably noticed I’m not your typical alpha. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, including staying with me. I also won’t beg you to choose anything more than friendship. I’m at your disposal, and where you decide this ends, that’ll be that. So, I’ll ask you the same question… How doyoufeel?”
Fuck. The ball is in my court, and I panic, searching for the right words even though I’m not sure how I feel.
Have I entertained the idea of letting Alessandro bond me? Yes.
Have I fantasized about waking up next to him every morning forever? Absolutely.
The idea of acting on it, though, of actually committing myself to another alpha, has me riddled with fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of betrayal. Of disappointment, heartbreak…
I cut off the steady flow of worry pouring into my thoughts and try to focus.
If I was going to ever be with another alpha, Alessandro is a good option. A safe option. If I’m being honest, he’s probably the best option in the entire world, despite our staggering age difference. He’s proven time and time again that he has my best interests at heart, that he’ll take care of me if I allow it.
