Page 14

BOONE

Ever since we had dinner with Remi the other night, I’ve been thinking about some of the stuff she said.

It keeps tumbling through my mind nonstop since her luscious lips uttered those precious words.

Even though I know she didn’t want to put herself out there, that’s precisely what she ended up doing.

Well, I could be if you’d give me the chance to prove myself.

Remi is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I could barely take my eyes off her all night. With her sultry smile and bright, earnest eyes, I found myself falling even after only just meeting her. Her outlook on life is another reason.

Remi is so open and caring. I didn’t have to talk to her for more than five minutes to catch on to that.

Even though Tripp and I didn’t do much talking, Knox did most of it; I knew right away that Select-A-Mate hadn’t made a mistake in pairing our pack with her.

She fit right in with us, and the conversation was easy.

With all things considered, however, that’s why her words made me feel inadequate. Someone like Remi should never beg anyone for their time or energy. She’s an absolute goddess, and people should clear their schedules to appease her.

Not many people have the level of goodness surrounding them that Remi has. Her entire being reverberates goodness. You simply want to do better just by being in her presence. It’s almost unattainable in the way you crave the need to be better for her.

It's why I find myself sitting at my desk at the university, with Tripp and Knox on the other side, looking at me with equal parts trepidation and curiosity. Usually, I’m not the type to speak up on things. Yet, I feel a need to speak up on this.

“Remi is perfect,” I finally say, watching a kaleidoscope of emotions pass over both their faces.

Knox is thoughtful, too lost in his own mind to know that I’m studying him like a book.

Tripp wears his heart on his sleeve. I can practically see little hearts dancing in his eyes when he thinks of Remit. He’s as infatuated with her as I am, which is to say a lot.

The office is what one might call modest yet comforting, a space that reflects years of academic dedication and commitment.

The desk beneath my elbows is a sturdy oak, its surface scattered with textbooks, a few stray papers, and a coffee mug with a fading university logo.

A soft lamp glows in the corner, casting a warm halo of light that fights the sterility of the overhead fluorescents.

The walls are lined with shelves brimming with books—some well-worn with cracked spines, others pristine as if they’ve never been opened.

Between the bookshelves, there’s a corkboard pinned with notes, reminders, and a few candid photos of past students and colleagues.

A small framed picture of a serene mountain landscape sits on the desk, a gift from someone long forgotten but still comforting in its presence.

The window behind me opens onto the campus quad, where the trees sway gently in the breeze, their shadowy forms moving like silent spectators.

The air carries the faint scent of aged paper and ink, grounding me in the knowledge that this space is mine, a haven for thought and contemplation.

Still, it pales in comparison to the radiance that Remi brings to my mind.

I find myself staring at all of my accomplishments as I wait for Knox and Tripp to say something. The silence looms over me like a heavy cloud, but I refuse to break under the pressure of it. For the first time in my life, I’m fighting for something I want.

Finally, Knox says something. “Remi may be beautiful, Boone, but she’s not a person the campaign team will approve of.”

I growl. “Fuck the campaign team. We’re talking about our entire lives, not just some passing fad.”

My eyes flick over to Tripp, seeing him manspreading in the seat he’s occupying.

He sits with his legs casually spread, his posture the epitome of relaxed confidence as he leans back in the chair, the wooden frame creaking faintly under his weight.

His arms drape loosely over the armrests, fingers occasionally tapping an idle rhythm as if the silence doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

The ease with which he occupies the space is almost enviable—effortless yet undeniably present.

His gaze shifts between Knox and me, but he doesn’t speak, allowing his body language to tell its own story: one of quiet assurance and unshakable conviction.

If anything, Tripp looks like he belongs here, as though this is just another chapter in a book he’s already decided how to end.

Yet nothing moves his silence. Not the words that Knox is spewing or even the conviction in my eyes as I fight for Knox to see that Remi is it for us.

Nothing. He’s an unshakable force to be reckoned with.

But have no doubt, once Tripp falls over that precipice he’s precariously teetering on, he will blow.

Tripp, in all his perfection, is a sight to behold. When he is fighting for something he wants, he goes all in. He pulls no punches.

It’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for Tripp.

We aren’t in a relationship, per se. But we are in a type of relationship where the foundation is built on mutual respect and trust. He and I are on the same page when it comes to Remi.

He may not be voicing his opinion right this moment, but it’s clear as day in his eyes what he wants.

Knox’s eyes peer through the low light, begging me to understand. But I can’t understand. I won’t. There is nothing that will make me understand giving up something as perfect as Remi. Nothing he can say or do will change my mind on the topic.

Remi is what I want and need. She’s what we all need.

However, no matter how much I want her, I won’t go against our First Alpha. I can’t. No matter what, we’re in this for better or worse.

If I were a stronger alpha, I would. The fact of the matter is, though, I’m not a stronger alpha. I’m not meant to lead. I’m meant to follow. Always have been. Always will be.

Yet his opinion on this sucks. He knows it. I know it. Tripp knows it.

“I simply cannot go against what I’ve worked hard for. Boone, you know how hard I’ve worked to get to where I am. If I undo all of that hard work with one simple decision, then why the hell did I work and fight so hard for?”

“I get that.” I nod, running my fingers through my glossy strands. “I get that more than anything. The fact remains that Remi is special to us. Tell me you didn’t feel it.”

“I felt it.” He sighs.

I hear it then, the things he’s not saying.

“You feel it, but you don’t care.”

“It’s not that I don’t care,” he says. “It’s that I can’t afford to.”

The frustration claws at me like a caged beast, desperate to be unleashed.

It gnaws at my every thought, twisting my emotions into a tempest of anger and helplessness.

How can I stand idly by when every fiber of my being screams for action?

It’s maddening—like being shackled to a decision that isn’t mine to make, bound by loyalty that feels like a double-edged sword.

The rage simmers below the surface, silent but potent, threatening to consume me.

I want to scream, to shatter the suffocating silence with the rawness of my anguish, but I don’t.

I bite it back, burying it deep where no one can see.

Yet I can't help but feel the burn, the sting of knowing that no matter how much I care, no matter how much I want, I’m powerless to change what is.

It’s the weight of responsibility—of respect, of duty—that keeps me pinned in place, like a mountain pressing down on my chest. And though I breathe, each inhale feels heavier, more labored, more suffocating.

Resentment wells up, sharp and bitter, not toward him, not toward the decision, but toward my own inability to act against it. To rebel. To lead.

But I know rebellion is not who I am. It’s not what I’ve been. And in this moment, I'm torn between the roles I’ve accepted and the yearning for something more—something free. Something that Remi represents but that I can’t touch, can’t grasp, because the chains of duty hold me fast.

“It’s not just you,” Tripp finally inserts, holding Knox’s stare. “We’re a pack. It’s all our decision.”

Every inch of Knox is vibrating with unspent energy. I can tell he wants to pace like a caged lion, but it’s his strength, his control, that keeps him from showing his hand. It’s the years of training under his father that keeps him rooted in the chair he’s occupying.

“We may be a pack, Tripp, but you know I’m right. I’m so close to becoming the Mayor of Cedar Hill that the finish line is in sight. We must stick to the status quo. Remi is a wildcard, one we absolutely cannot afford.”

Tripp rolls his eyes, huffing. “Fuck your campaign, dude. You can always put your law degree to use. We all know it. You were one of the best defense attorneys in the state before you left your job to pursue something that I don’t even think you want.”

“I want it!” Knox finally reaches his boiling point. He jumps up from his spot, causing the chair to slide back a few inches. “You have no idea what I want.”

“Whose fault is that?” Tripp asks, cocking a brow. “You close yourself up so tight it’s hard for anyone to get close, even us.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” Knox grits his teeth, hissing.