Chapter 38

Kayla

When Nicholas insisted that I pick a spot to go next, I hesitated, biting my lower lip. The truth was, I did have something in mind, but it felt silly for reasons I wasn’t ready to admit.

Liam had never cared to ask what I wanted to do when we were together. Every ‘date’ we had together, in hindsight, was just something he wanted, or some basic dinner that he could brag about later. And whenever I revealed my own interests, he would always find some underhanded comment to make me feel silly for it.

Admitting my own interests now felt... vulnerable. It was something that I wasn’t very used to, if I was being honest.

Nicholas tilted his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What’s that look for?”

“What look?” I deflected, crossing my arms.

He chuckled. “The one where you’re trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. Spill it. Where do you want to go?”

I sighed, glancing away. “It’s nothing important. We can just go home.”

“Well, I’m not ready to go home just yet,” he insisted. “But I’m also tired of making all the decisions, so I’m going to sit right here and wait for you to decide.”

And with that, he tucked his helmet beneath both of his arms and plopped down on his motorcycle, smirking at me infuriatingly.

Dammit, I thought to myself as I watched that all-too-familiar mischievous sparkle come to life in his eyes, his dark hair illuminated by the setting sun like a fallen angel’s halo. How could someone be a massive thorn in my side and the most attractive person I’d ever seen at the same time?

“Fine,” I relented. “I... I kind of wanted to go to the bookstore.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he didn’t laugh. “The bookstore?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, feeling the need to justify myself for some reason. “There’s this place downtown, Cooper’s Books, that I’ve been meaning to check out. They have a great selection of used books, and I heard they just got a new shipment in, and—” I stopped myself, realizing I was rambling. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s probably boring for you.”

Nicholas grinned. “Are you kidding? I love that place.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“Absolutely. They have the best collection of rare finds.” He motioned toward his motorcycle. “Shall we?”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “Okay.”

The ride to the bookstore was comfortably quiet, the city streets giving way to quaint shops and cafes. Nicholas parked the bike in front of a charming brick building with large windows showcasing rows of books.

As we stepped inside, the familiar scent of old books greeted us. Antique lamps bathed the room in a warm glow, and wooden shelves towered all the way to the high ceilings, filled to the brim with books of every kind.

To my surprise, Nicholas grabbed my hand and practically yanked me over to the small coffee counter that the shop boasted. The barista took one look at him and said, “The usual, Alpha Nicholas?”

The usual? I thought as Nicholas nodded and took my order, a whole milk latte. He must come here often.

A few minutes later, we were both holding takeout coffee cups in our hands. Nicholas turned to me. “I’ll be in the fantasy section,” he said, nodding his head toward the back of the store. “You’re welcome to wander or come with me. Free world and all that.”

And just like that, he was gone. I mean, gone. The man literally beelined for the fantasy section like there was some kind of lost treasure waiting for him there.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as I watched him strut away. After that, I meandered lazily through the aisles, sipping my coffee. I ran my fingers along the spines, pulling out titles that caught my eye. Time seemed to blur as I delved deeper into the stacks, discovering quite a few books that piqued my interest.

Eventually, with my arms full, I found Nicholas still in the fantasy section. He was engrossed in a thick hardcover, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Find something good?” I asked, approaching him.

“Possibly. But I think you might like this one.” He handed me a paperback with an image of a woman wielding a sword on the front.

I read the title aloud. “‘The Lycan Chronicles.’ Hmm, never heard of it.”

“It’s a fantasy series,” he explained, still flipping through his own book. “Great world-building, complex characters...” He glanced up and smirked. “Plus, it has some... steamy scenes.”

I felt a newfound heat rise to my cheeks at that, but also a touch of amusement. “Wait, you read romance?” I blurted out, not sure if he was messing with me.

He shrugged casually. “Well, I wouldn’t call it romance...”

I laughed, flipping the book over to point at the genre tags. Lo and behold, there it was: adult romance. “This is a romance book!” I teased.

Nicholas looked a little flustered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “It has a good plot!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” I teased. “Good plot.”

He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“Maybe I will,” I said, adding the book to my growing pile.

We continued browsing for a little while longer, occasionally sharing recommendations, but mostly stayed quiet. Despite my reservations, it was... nice. Comfortable. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at ease with someone.

After what felt like hours, we approached the counter with our selections—a massive pile that earned an amused look from the elderly shopkeeper.

“Stocking up, are we?” she chuckled.

“Something like that,” Nicholas replied, flashing her a charming smile.

As she rang up our purchases, I glanced at him. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

He met my gaze as he swiped his card at the register. “Anytime,” he replied with a roguish wink. My face heated anew and I shoved my hands in my pockets, quickly looking away.

With our bags in tow, we stepped out into the fading sunlight. The cool evening air was refreshing, and as we packed our purchases into the small luggage compartment hidden under the motorcycle seat, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Nicholas.

He really was an enigma sometimes. And a rather interesting one, at that.

But the spell was quickly broken when he tossed me my helmet, nearly making me drop it. “Wake up, Sterling,” he teased, ruffling my hair with his hand and ruining my carefully-styled curls.

I pouted from behind the frizzy red locks that fell into my face.

“Prick,” I murmured, stuffing my helmet on and climbing onto the bike behind him.

To my surprise, the hum of the motorcycle and the rhythmic rumbling as we drove began to lull me into a state of relaxation. As the cool evening air breezed past us, I felt my eyelids begin to grow heavy, the tension I’d once felt sitting on this metal death-trap slipping away.

Yawning, I rested my head gently against Nicholas’s shoulder, the warmth radiating from him surprisingly comforting.

Some time later, I awoke to find myself no longer on the motorcycle but instead laying in a soft bed, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Blinking slowly, I realized I was back in my room, tucked under the covers. My shoes were neatly lined up by the armchair under the window, my jacket laying over the arm. My new books were stacked on the bedside table, ‘The Lycan Chronicles’ sitting on the top.

Suddenly, it hit me. Somehow, I had slept through the entire ride home.

And I had even slept through Nicholas carrying me to bed.