Page 103 of Pin My Alpha
So I do. I climb into his lap.
His arms wrap around me then, strong and sure, holding me like I’m something precious. I turn my face into his neck and just breathe. Cedar. Whiskey. Cotton. Home.
I feel the muscles in his throat work as he swallows. A low rumble starts in his chest, that sound that’s somewhere between comfort and possession.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his skin. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I turned you into one of them.”
His grip tightens. “I’m not them,” he says, his voice wrecked. “But I gave you a reason to be scared, and I’m sorry for that.”
I pull back just enough to see his face. “You gave me one reason. And I built a whole goddamn fortress out of it because that’s what I do.”
His thumb gently wipes a tear from under my eye. “You’re allowed to be scared.”
“I know,” I say, my breath shuddering. “I’m just tired of letting it make all the decisions.”
His eyes close for a second. When they open, they’re impossibly green. “You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
I look at the folder on the table. Then at my phone, still face-down on the rug where I dropped it.
“Yes, I do.”
I slide off his lap and pick up my phone. My hands are steady now. The KnotMe icon is there, pink and black, a symbol of the escape hatch I’ve kept open for years. The part of me that always knew how to leave first.
I hold the phone so he can see the screen. His expression softens.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
“I know.”
And because he’s not asking, because he’s not demanding proof, I give it to him freely.
I press my thumb to the icon until the menu pops up. My finger hovers over Remove App. For a second, I think of the person who downloaded it, the one who was so sure he’d never need anyone. He kept me safe for a long time. But safe has started to feel a lot like lonely.
I hit delete.
The app vanishes.
I set the phone down and meet Declan’s gaze. He’s looking at me like I just hung the moon.
“I don’t need it anymore,” I tell him.
His face just breaks. He lets out a shaky breath and presses his forehead to mine, his hands finding my hips like they belong there.
“You’ve got me,” he says into the space between us.
I put my hand flat against his chest, over his heart. “And you’ve got me.”
The partnership agreement is still on the table, my name right next to his.
For the first time in my life, I look at the fine print and I’m not searching for the exit clause.
Declan
Shay’s hand is still spread over my chest when somebody knocks once on his bedroom door.
Not opens it. Just knocks.
“Everything alive in there?” Jude calls. “Because I’m giving it thirty seconds before I come in and make this about me.”
