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“What else would you like me to do? You’re keeping me at an arm’s length. You’re not letting me touch you, and you’re not talking to me the way you did.”

“I talked to you that way because you weren’t my mate.”

“You talked to me that way because you were letting yourself like me, Si. Let yourself like me again.”

“I need to process everything first. I’m not ready to be mated, okay? I only agreed to the date to show you how badly you hurt me, and now, I’m supposed to meet with some random pushy guy while acting like what? Like you and I are mates? I don’t even know what that would mean for us.” I pushed his hands off my face and took a step back.

“Leave Belle and Ox to each other, then. Stay here with me. Let me show you what it could mean.”

“I’m not talking about sex, Beck. You showed me very thoroughly what that would be like. I’m talking about having an actual relationship. Sharing a life. Living together. Dealing with each other for the rest of forever. Maybe even having kids.” I couldn’t stop the last bit from slipping out.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think much of it.

“I wasn’t talking about sex either.” His gaze was steady enough that I actually kind of believed him.

Then again, I’d believed he wasn’t my mate too, so I obviously didn’t have the best judgment.

“We can spend tonight talking, playing cards, and taking turns sharing our thoughts about what we want this to look like.” He gestured between us.

I was tired of fighting with him, and hiding my feelings.

And I needed to hear what he had to say.

So, I agreed. “Alright. We can shower, then meet in the living room.”

“I’ll let Ox and Belle know.”

I nodded, and he stepped back. His eyes were on me as he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

I took a moment to lock it before I let out a pent-up breath.

What had I just agreed to?

I took a long time in the shower, avoiding the inevitable for as long as possible. Beck’s hair products were nicer than mine, so I spent way too long breathing in their scents and marveling over how soft they were making my hair.

By the time I finally put on a pair of comfortable shorts and a soft sleep t-shirt, I’d decided I couldn’t avoid him any longer, and padded to the door.

As soon as I cracked it open, I paused. My stomach growled as I inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of whatever was cooking.

Some kind of Italian food.

Yummm.

I took another deep breath in and forced myself to keep moving. The scent of Beck’s shampoo filled my lungs and made my body warmer as I walked.

I needed serious help. Two nights of sex had ruined me; now I was horny as hell.

He stood in front of the stove, lazily stirring something. His hair was wet and loose around his shoulders, and his chest was bare again. All he had on was a clean pair of sweats.

Beck looked over his shoulder. His eyes grew hooded as they dragged down my figure, then made their way back up. “Come sit on the countertop.”

My mind flashed back to the day before.

To the way we’d made out by the sink, and the way he’d had his mouth on me there.

My face flushed. “I’ll help cook.”

“Your feet are tired. Just sit down.” He gestured me toward him, and I reluctantly crossed the room. When I saw him start to drop his spoon so he could lift me up, I slid onto the counter by myself.