Page 12

Chapter Twelve

C innamon. Sugar. Just a hint of caramel.

The delicious flavors combine on my tongue, and I can’t help the wanton moan that comes from me as I swoop my tongue into his mouth, chasing the sweetness just beyond my reach. His hands cup my face, changing the angle of our kiss until I can’t think. Can’t breathe.

In this world, there’s only him. Miller. Bright. Vibrant. Everything.

But a moment later, the taste sours in my mouth when Miller abruptly ends the kiss and backs up. His fingers slide down my face, and ever so slowly, I open my eyes and peek up at him.

His beautiful face twists like it used to whenever I entered a room—disgust written in every line. Breathing becomes more difficult when my chest constricts at the rejection.

My first kiss—and all I see is bitter regret.

Blinking rapidly, I push back the silly tears already forming in my eyes. I swallow hard around the lump in my throat and try to come up with a pithy comment to break the tension.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to end a panic attack,” I say with bravado, even though my insides are quaking. Shifting my legs, I try to hop down from the hood of the car in order to get away from the pull of his body. But my movements meet with a rumble of disapproval from deep within his chest. Miller’s hands clamp down hard on my hips, stilling my flight, and his nose presses hard against my neck.

Then he skates his way upward, pressing his cheek against mine like an Alpha staking his claim. Though I can’t smell, he’s scent marking me.

Butterflies flap with silent wings in my stomach.

The heat from earlier returns, flaring under my skin and making me want to throw my arms around Miller, cling to him like a barnacle, and never, ever let go.

Holy crap, get it together.

I’m thankful for the de-scenting lotion I applied liberally this morning, along with the thick-as-hell scent-canceling panties I wore today. Hopefully, it’s enough to hide my perfume. Although I’ve never scented myself, the amount of slick seeping from my core has me worried, so I move to pull away again.

With a pained moan, Miller steps back but doesn’t let go, using his grasp on my hips to help guide me down. My knees are weak, threatening to give out as my feet reach the pavement below.

“Jeez,” Miller says with a frown. “That driving lesson took it out of you, huh?”

He lifts me as though I weigh nothing, and I’m instantly back in panic mode.

“Miller. I can walk! Put me down!” I cry, embarrassed he’ll know how heavy I am.

“Nope.”

“Put me down. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“How? You’re as light as a feather, and I’m very steady on my feet.” I snort at his comment but shut my mouth since he’s already lowering me into the passenger seat. He snags the seatbelt and quickly buckles me in. The press of his body against mine leaves me speechless—all thoughts and protests flying right out of my brain as it turns to mush.

The click of the belt makes me jump, but Miller is already closing the door and walking to the driver’s side, completely unaffected.

Was that a pity kiss? Oh, God…

Mortification sinks like a rock in my gut. Was he acting as an Alpha trying to calm a hysterical omega?

Miller climbs in, then rests his head against the supple leather of the seat, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his temples. The regret on his face stills my heart, and my inner omega just wants to soothe all his pain away. But unfortunately, I caused it.

How could he kiss the girl who killed his parents?

My fingers twitch. I consider getting back out of the car and calling a rideshare to come pick me up, but it seems impossibly melodramatic, and I don’t want to make this worse than it already is. So, I do the only thing I can. I lie.

“Do you think you could drop me off at the university? I have an exam in a little bit, and I would love some extra time to study.” Pride fills me at how even my voice is. How unaffected I sound. Like this wasn’t my first kiss and heartbreak all wrapped into one.

“Posie… I…” he begins, then rubs his eyes as though exasperated.

“It’s okay if you don’t have time. I can call a ride…” Twisting in my seat, I grab the belt to release myself and get out. Every part of me is screaming to remove myself from this moment. To flee from the embarrassment. My instincts riot against the rejection from Miller, knowing it will be more devastating than the ones that came before.

Run. Run. Run.

He takes a deep breath, and I brace for what I know I’m going to hear.

“Puff, we need to talk about this…” he trails off, and my heart cracks a little in my chest.

“It’s okay,” I rush to explain. “I was hysterical. You kissed me to stop it. I totally get it. No-strings-attached. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Posie… that’s not,” he tries again, but my heart spasms. I can’t understand why this feels so much different. So life-altering. Alphas have been assholes forever. I’ve met plenty who think I should worship the ground they walk on just because I’ve got a bit of extra padding. Some even asked me on dates, then co mpletely ghosted me. It all hurt, but this… this is something else.

“I really need to get to school,” I beg, and thankfully, he starts the car with a deeply frustrated sigh.

“Fine, but there are some things I need to tell you as we drive,” he grumbles, narrowing his eyes at me. My lower lip trembles, and tears threaten again.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” I squeak, letting my hair fall forward so he can’t see how much this is affecting me.

He grunts, but does as I say.

“That kiss…” he begins, and I want to stick my fingers in my ears and shout until he stops. “I never…”

The stereo lets out a shrill ring, and my brother’s name pops up on the screen in the dashboard. “Incoming call from Owen,” “Incoming call from Owen,” it chants. Miller curses under his breath, sending it to voicemail. But, of course, my brother won’t be so easily dissuaded, and he calls again.

“I’ll be quiet. You should get that,” I promise, looking out the window. With an annoyed huff, he answers. The houses quickly give way to busier streets as we head toward the highway. It’s a short drive to the university from here, and I’m hopeful I can get there without having my heart completely stomped on. The need for space to process everything creates an itch under my skin that is impossible to scratch, and nervous energy surges through me.

“Dude, you missed practice this morning,” Owen says, and I glance at Miller, surprised. That’s unusual for him.

“Had somewhere else to be. ”

“And you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?” Miller’s eyes flick over to me, his lips twisting in a frown that frays my nerves further. There’s a lengthy pause in the conversation so filled with tension that I need to bite my lip to stop my whine.

The sign for my school appears, and Miller turns onto the long, winding road that will take us straight to the University Library.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. But are you riding with us to the airport? We’re leaving in about an hour to get there in time.” Miller’s face blanches, and I wonder if he’s somehow forgotten that he has a string of away games for the next few days.

“Uhhh. Yeah. That sounds good. I’m headed toward home now. I just need to pack quickly.”

“You need to pack? You still need to pack ?” Owen squawks through the speakers, and I press my hands to my ears at the sudden volume.

“Yup. I’ll be ready. Gotta go.” Miller ends the call before my brother replies. He pulls the car to the curb, and I quickly unsnap my seatbelt, ready to hightail it out of there the second the car stops.

As I reach for the handle, ready to make my great escape, Miller grasps my wrist—holding me firmly, but without hurting.

“Puff,” I cringe at the hated nickname. The reminder that all he will ever see me as is his best friend’s chubby baby sister. “We need to talk.”

“We really don’t,” I tell him. “I know it didn’t mean anything. I get it. Please just let it go. I need to prepare for class, and you have a plane to catch. ”

This time, when I tug away, he lets go, and I fumble with the handle.

“It meant something, and we are going to talk about it,” he growls. I throw the door open, shivering as the fresh air rushes in. “I’ll call you later. Be sure to answer your phone.”

With a gulp, I nod but make no promises before rushing toward the library doors. They open automatically, and I head for the back as quickly as my legs will take me until I stumble into an empty study pod.

Dropping on the bench, I bring my fingers to my bruised lips and allow all the adrenaline to catch up to me, before falling into silent sobs. My phone vibrates loudly in my pocket, and I pull it out, ready to silence it, but the name on the screen has me pausing.

Miller

This isn’t over. You can run, but I won’t let you hide.

The words seem ominous. Or promising?

Lifting my legs to my chest, I curl in on myself, unable to process the conflicting feelings battling for dominance inside me.

Thank goodness I don’t have a test. I would fail for sure.