Page 66 of Claimed By My Exiled Alphas

I cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing along her cheekbones. Gave her every opportunity to change her mind.Then I kissed her, finally, after weeks of wanting and restraint and careful distance.

She tasted like tiramisu and espresso and something uniquely her. Her hands came up to grip my shirt, pulling me closer. The kiss deepened, becoming less tentative and more certain. This was right. This was what I’d been waiting for without knowing how much I needed it.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Her pupils were dilated, her scent spiked with arousal that made my alpha instincts surge with possession and want.

“That was worth waiting for,” she said, slightly breathless.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first time you refused to let me carry that heavy box you were struggling with.”

“That’s a weird moment to develop attraction.”

“I told you I was weird about everything.”

She laughed and pulled me down for another kiss, this one shorter but no less intense. When we separated again, I had to consciously stop myself from suggesting we skip the drive home and find somewhere more private right now.

“We should probably head back,” I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted. “It’s getting late and you have an early meeting with the health department tomorrow.”

“How do you remember my schedule better than I do?”

“I pay attention to things that matter to me.”

The drive back to Hollow Haven was quieter than the drive out, but comfortable. Her hand found mine on the center console and stayed there. We didn’t need to fill the silence with conversation.

When I pulled up to her cottage, I came around to open her door and walked her to the porch. Standard date protocol, except nothing about this felt standard.

“I had a really good time tonight,” she said, fishing for the keys from her purse. “We should do it again.”

“Are you free next Sunday? There’s a concert in Millbrook, classical guitar. I thought you might enjoy it.”

“Already planning the second date?”

“I told you I make lists for everything.”

“That sounds perfect.” She unlocked her door, then turned back to me. “Cassian? What you said at dinner, about wanting to matter to someone just for being yourself. You do. You matter to me. Not for what you can provide or how useful you are. Just for being you.”

The tightness in my chest made speaking difficult. “That means more than you know.”

“I know exactly how much it means. Because you make me feel the same way.”

She rose on her toes and kissed me one more time, soft and sweet and full of promise. Then she slipped inside before I could pull her back and suggest complications we probably weren’t ready for.

I drove home to the house on Ridge Road, my mind full of the evening. The conversation and the kiss and the way she’d defended me without hesitation. The realization that I’d found something worth more than family approval or financial security.

Inside, I poured myself a whiskey and settled on the couch, pulling out my phone to find three texts in the group chat I had with Jace and Hollis.

From Jace:How was the date? She get back okay?

From Hollis:I assume it went well since neither of you have texted disaster updates.

I smiled and typed back:Date was perfect. She said yes to next Sunday, so clearly my methodology is sound.

Jace responded immediately:What methodology? You mean the four restaurant reservations?

I laughed as I typed back:How did you know about that?

Hollis:She may have mentioned it. With considerable amusement.

Jace:FOUR reservations. That’s so on brand for you it hurts.