Page 26 of Thorns That Bloom (Venusverse #3)

Struggling not to let every emotion inside me show, I give him a measured glance.

“What?” I frown, quickly realizing the ridiculous implication.

“Didn’t injure yourself in the hopes that I would be around and offer to take you to the hospital?

Yeah, no shit. That would be mental, and it would require you to have the ability to see the future. ”

I tighten my grip on the wheel, reminding myself that he’s just trying to be thoughtful. I was pretty freaked out the last time we saw each other.

“I just…don’t want you to think I’m some stalker,” he says, head hung down, and chuckles sadly.

His voice is low, vibrating from somewhere at the back of his throat.

“I know you don’t like me. It’s fine. Still, I’m really thankful you’re driving me and…

” He stops himself, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to continue.

Furrowing my brows, I glance at him. He’s just staring at his hand, wrapping the towel tighter around his wrist so no blood can get out.

“And…?”

His pheromones hit my nose again, and a faint shiver ghosts down my spine. They’re weak and not as rich. He’s clearly nervous.

“And I’m happy,” he admits shyly. “To be able to see you again. And the baby. It…seems to be growing well.” His gaze shifts to my stomach.

There’s an earnest expression on his face when he studies it.

It makes me uneasy how…absolute it is. “Not that— Not that you look fat or anything,” he blurts quickly, looking up at me, his eyes wide and panicked.

“You look great. Just in a purely…normal way. I’m not coming onto you, I’m just saying that…

it looks like you and the baby are doing well, that’s all. ”

I face away so that he can’t see the amused smirk his anxious rambling causes. I can’t help myself; he’s being so damn…

“I don’t dislike you,” I say after a moment, just as we pass the shopping center about a quarter of the way to the hospital.

When I look back at him, that idiotic, childish joy is plastered all over his face again, like it was when I called him to me in the cafeteria.

With that ruffled hair, lighter at the tips and going dirty blond toward the roots, and those big blue eyes, he looks like the personification of sunshine.

Only now, his cheeks don’t have that healthy pinkish undertone.

They’re a little duller, probably because of the blood loss or the general finger coming off type of discomfort.

Here I am. The exact place I knew I had to get to.

I need to bring it up again: the stuff he told me in the restaurant before it got completely derailed by my trauma.

Stuff I can’t just ignore or bury my head in the sand about.

It’s not fair to him. Whether or not I like to deal with it, he’s another human being with feelings, and what he told me about those feelings was… a lot.

“You’re not still holding onto that fated mates idea, are you?”

I can’t bear to meet his eyes, so I look ahead. Still, the weight of his gaze is on me. The silence says more than enough, too. “Would it make you feel better if I said I’m not?” he asks, half serious, but we both know the answer already.

Sighing, I rub my forehead.

What am I supposed to do with this mess? How do I fucking explain to him?

I tense my jaw in frustration. “You can’t— Look…

if that stuff were true, if fated mates were real, it wouldn’t be me.

It would be somebody who’s good for you.

” My voice dips down at the end, like it can’t carry the weight of the words coming out.

I swallow and take a deep breath, unsure why it feels so hard to continue.

“Not somebody with a laundry list of issues, carrying another man’s child. ”

It needs to be done. I have to say these things to make him understand, no matter how badly it hurts.

Knowing we don’t have that much time before we get to the hospital, I check his reaction, even if I’d rather stare ahead and act like he isn’t there.

Theo’s eyes are glazed over in a way that makes my heart skip a beat.

He’s looking at me like someone praying for a miracle, someone hopeless and desperate and raw.

“I…” He opens his mouth but quickly closes it again.

Tightening his grip around his injured hand, he lets out a frustrated snicker as he clearly struggles to find words.

“I don’t want you to think I’m saying this to convince you or pressure you, I— Just let me say this, please?

” I nod immediately, unable to resist those puppy eyes of his. “My dads are both omegas.”

I raise my eyebrows. Unusual.

“Yeah, I know. Exactly. They’re two omegas who always knew that they wanted their own children.

So they tried. They tried and tried and tried.

Everyone knows how hard it is for two male omegas to conceive.

Some said my dad might as well have tried to knock up a male beta,” he notes with a faint chuckle before looking back at me with a spark in his eye, “but they did it. After so many years of people telling them it wouldn’t happen, and that it was impossible, they did it.

Had twins. My sister and I. Medical journals were written about them. You can look it up,” he assures me.

If what he says is true, and there isn’t an iota of me that feels like he’s lying, it’s pretty incredible.

“So when I look at my dads, and compare it to whatever the hell I’m feeling…

Well, maybe everything’s possible. M-maybe fated mates isn’t just something religious kooks buy into.

Maybe it’s true that some alphas and omegas are naturally, cosmically, spiritually…

meant to be together. Made for each other.

Whatever that means. Whatever you want to believe is behind it.

I know what I’m feeling might seem absurd, but it’s real. ”

I stare at him as he holds his finger and points at the left side of his chest, to his heart, with conviction, at least until the towel around his other hand starts to unwrap, and he needs to grab it again.

The old me would’ve laughed at him. The old Sam shot down alpha friends with benefits who would start catching feelings and talking about having something special.

Why am I disarmed by this naive kid’s silly fairytale?

Is it just because he speaks with such genuine conviction? With this surging determination in his smooth, velvety voice?

Almost like my flustered silence is a sign to him, Theo continues.

“Have you tried researching it? Not just reading the basics about fated mates or the weird, dogmatic ramblings from the DDS, but actual experiences of actual people? I went online, and I found so many forums. Dozens of people talking about this thing, this exact feeling. They all described this irrational, intense sense of belonging. This senseless need to please and care for a person they’ve never even met before and—”

As his excitement rises and his words come out faster and faster, so do Theo’s pheromones. The scent grows stronger, more present, until it seeps underneath my skin and threatens to affect me in a way I don’t like.

He must notice, or at least the way I freeze up and hold my breath. Quickly, he rolls the window down, letting in the cold air from the outside.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

I breathe slowly, and dart my eyes across the city around us, noting and counting five distinct things I can see.

A tree. The fancy bank building. A flickering lamp. The passing white van. Red traffic light.

With a controlled exhale, I feel myself settling again. “I’m fine,” I say preemptively, and partially, it’s the truth. My mind is clearer, and it no longer tries to tell me Theo and his alpha pheromones are dangerous. Because that’s not true.

I might be fine right now, in this situation with Theo, but otherwise, in general, I am not. And I still don’t know if I’ll ever be.

That might be what holds me back the most.

“I wish we had known each other before my life became a mess,” I say bitterly.

“A year or so back, I probably would’ve laughed at your idea, but there would have been a slim chance.

Now… Now it’s too late, Theo. It’s not the right time for me.

For this. To entertain it, or for me to even be able to believe it. You understand?”

Please, understand…

“I meant what I said back at the restaurant. You’re not…you’re not broken. Or damaged. Not to me. No matter what.”

“How would you know?” I snap at him. I realize how childish and cruel I just sounded straight away, and look away with a frustrated snicker.

“Just… Please don’t make me worry about you walking around pining for me and this…

ridiculous fantasy. Like I already told you, I don’t hate you.

I don’t dislike you. But you living your life believing this can only ever make me upset.

If you want to please me, give yourself more time.

See if it…fizzles out. Do that for me. Go out and date other people, people your age, and try to forget about what might as well be some momentary infatuation or some hormonal or…

I don’t know.” I puff out a tense exhale. “Can you do that?”

I hold my breath, hoping for him to agree.

Even as discomfort and unhappiness flash over his face, Theo nods. He lowers his eyes, and his brow twitches before he glances up at me again. “I’ll…consider it. If that’s what you want. I promise.”

His promise should mean nothing to me. And yet I believe him.

“Thank you.”

A bit of that weight lifts off my shoulders. The knowledge of him walking around with this horrible idea that he has to fight for somebody like me because of some unspecified, magical feeling seems unfair. Cruel, almost.

A cruel joke.

He needs to find someone normal. Someone better. Someone willing and ready to open their heart to him. Someone who carries only good things inside them.

Just in time, we arrive at the hospital. My stomach is in knots, and I don’t know how much more of my overthinking I could take, anyway. I stop outside the emergency department entrance, and before I can get even a word out, Theo opens the door and unfolds himself from the passenger seat.

“Thank you for taking me.” He holds up his injured hand.

“I hope I didn’t get blood anywhere. If I did, I’ll pay for the cleaning.

I can handle it alone from here. Get home safe,” he says softly, a genuine, warm smile flashing across his lips before he turns away to get out, the corners of his mouth falling at the last moment.

He disappears from my sight, and now there’s a different kind of heaviness weighing on me. One sitting deep in the pit of my stomach. I swallow, trying to ignore it.

“Good luck,” I mutter to myself, knowing damn well he’s too far to hear.