Chapter 8 CHAPTER 8
The sun was already high when I finally dragged myself out of bed. My body ached in places I wasn’t prepared to think about, and every time I shifted, a memory of warm skin, steady hands, a low groan in my ear threatened to pull me right back into last night. I groaned into my pillow.
“This is bad,” I muttered. “This is so, so bad.” But my body got warm just at the mere thought.
Branden Lancaster Alpha, married, forbidden, had touched me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. And for hours, I let him. After our first moment at the event, he led me to the back of his car, and we drove to a hotel for the night.
He looked at me with hungry and sincere eyes and told me he wanted to spend the night with me. How could I have said no to him?
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing a hand over my racing heart. The image of him above me was strong, telling me I was safe even when everything felt like fire refused to fade.
My mind was a mess, but my body remembered every second.
I wasn’t prepared for what happened next: a knock on the door.
“Ayla?” Branden’s deep voice carried through the woods, steady but strained. “Are you awake?”
My stomach flipped so violently I nearly tripped over the bedsheets. I scrambled to the mirror, pushed my tangled hair back, and nearly swore again. My neck was a disaster: deep kisses, a bite, bruises blooming like a declaration.
“I hate my life,” I whispered to the mirror.
“Ayla?” he called again, softer this time.
“Yes!” I squeaked, then cleared my throat. “Yeah. Just a moment.”
I opened the door. Branden stood there in a simple black shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair still damp from a shower. He looked tired and sexy as hell. My heartbeat went wild.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey.” We stared at each other too long, long enough for the air to thicken between us again. He finally gestured toward the small dining area.
“I brought breakfast. You didn’t eat last night." Right. Because I was too busy… no, absolutely not letting my brain go there again.
“Thank you,” I said, stepping past him. He followed but kept a careful distance, his movements slower than usual, like he wasn’t sure how close he was allowed to get. The table was set with eggs, toast, fruit, and tea.
I sat down, and he sat across from me. Silence swallowed the room.
Finally, Branden exhaled. “We need to talk.” Panic fired through me, but it wasn’t the kind that made me want to run. It was the kind that made me want to grab his shirt and kiss him again just so I wouldn’t have to face reality.
“Last night…” I began.
“Wasn’t a mistake,” he finished calmly. My breath caught. “Branden—”
“It wasn’t,” he repeated, firmer this time. “I’m not going to pretend that what happened was some drunk accident or weak moment. I wanted you. I’ve wanted you longer than I should admit.”
My throat tightened.
I wanted him too. But the guilt was already creeping in, sharp and cold.
“You’re married,” I whispered.
His jaw flexed. “Not in the way you think.”
“You have a pregnant wife,” I forced out. His eyes darkened with something like anger, but not at me. “Ayla… that child is not mine.”
Hearing it from his mouth still knocked the air out of me. I looked down at my hands. “You shouldn’t have had to prove anything to me.”
“It’s not about proving anything,” he said, voice roughening. “It’s about telling the truth. I should have told you sooner.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He hesitated. It was the first real pause he’d made since we sat down.
“Because telling you would have made this impossible to ignore,” he said quietly. “And I’ve been afraid of what that meant.”
My chest tightened painfully. “Afraid of me?”
“Afraid of how far I’d go to keep you.”
Heat spread through me despite everything. His honesty was a dangerous thing; it slipped under my skin too easily.
“I shouldn’t have let last night happen,” I whispered.
“You say that,” he murmured, leaning in slightly, “but your body told me something very different.”
My breath hitched. “Branden…”
He shook his head. “I’m not proud of the mess my life is. But I’m not ashamed of wanting you.” Silence pressed in again thick and heavy.
I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to feel.”
“You don’t owe me an answer right now,” he said gently. “Just talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.” I stared at him for a long moment. He looked so steady, so patient.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
He didn’t flinch. “Of what?”
“Of what this means, losing myself to something that can never work.”
“It can work,” he said immediately.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes,” he said, leaning forward, “I do.” Something in his voice made my pulse jump. A warning. A promise. A claim. But I couldn’t let hope blind me not again, not like with Callen.
“I need time,” I said softly.
Branden nodded, though his jaw tightened. “Take all the time you want. I’m not going anywhere.” He meant it, I could feel it. Before I could respond, a soft vibration buzzed across the table, his phone lighting up. I was sitting a bit far away to see the caller ID.
My stomach dropped. Branden’s expression darkened instantly, his shoulders going rigid. He didn’t answer, he didn't even look at me. He just let the phone ring until it stopped. "Why aren't you answering your phone?" He didn't say anything, I sighed, feeling like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“That was her,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
“Are you going to pretend she doesn’t exist now?”
His eyes snapped to mine. “No. But I’m done letting her control my life. Or yours.” I swallowed. “This is complicated."
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Branden—” He pushed up from the table suddenly, restless energy rolling off him.
“I want to see you again,” he said. “Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you decide you’re ready.” My breath hitched.“You can’t keep doing this if you don’t fix your marriage situation.”
“I will,” he said instantly.
“How? When?” He paused. That hesitation said more than his words ever could. I stood from my chair. “You need to figure out your life before you drag me into it any deeper.” His expression wavered between anger and confusion, everything flickering at once. But then it settled into something steady.
“You’re right.” He stepped closer, and my breath caught in my throat.
“But just so we’re clear,” he said quietly, “last night didn’t happen because I was confused. It happened because I chose you.” My heart crashed against my ribs. I don't believe him; nothing about his words or actions makes me believe him.
“And I’m going to keep choosing you,” he added, “whether you’re ready for that or not.” Heat shot through me, fear and excitement tangled so tightly I couldn’t tell them apart. But realization quickly tore my hopes up, "What about the commitments you had with your wife?" He looked at me but said nothing.
This might never be a dream come true. They have been married for a year. Why would he leave her for me?
“I need air,” I whispered. Branden nodded, stepping aside. “I’ll drive you.”
“No.” I swallowed hard. “I need to be alone.” He clenched his jaw, but he nodded once. “Call me if you need anything.” I didn’t answer him, ready to focus on the future and forget anything that happened between us.