Acceptance...?

Oliva didn't think twice before getting out of the car and slamming the door hard, taking out all her frustration without even looking back. She was annoyed, which was nothing new, with Matteo by her side, she was always annoyed just by the fact that he was breathing the same air as you.

"Hey, there's no use in getting that frown on your face." He hastened his pace to walk her into the deserted parking lot. "It's not my fault you freaked out. You're not driving anymore, and I need to sleep! I can't rest and see to it that you don't roll the car over at the same time." Matteo says impatiently.

It was past eleven o'clock at night, and they stopped at an inn in the middle of the road to rest. The alpha didn't want to show the concern that drove him just remembering the panic crisis Oliva had suffered hours ago, and he definitely didn't want to see her in that conflicting situation ever again. It had been hopeless even for him.

She needed some time, a bath, and a warm and comfortable bed. The day had been long inside that car, and even longer in her mind.

And Matteo understood her.

They got out of the elevator and arrived at the reception desk of the inn and Oliva took the lead and the boy remained standing a few steps behind her with his arms crossed and his face closed, like a security guard doing escort.

"Good evening! A suite, please." She says sympathetically to the attendant who smiles readily in response.

"We have a wonderful double suite, you'll love it!" the attendant says and Oliva grimaces. He would have to swallow that pronoun 'Ma'am' the force of hate.

"Oh, me and him...?" Oliva lifts one of her thumbs over her shoulder, pointing at Matteo in scorn. "No, no." She props her elbows between the counter and sighs theatrically, stares at the jovial boy in front of her in flirtation, and smiles charmingly, leaving the attendant flustered. "A suite with two separate beds."

Matteo rolls his eyes at the scene and bites his tongue to control himself. Oliva might be his wife, but she didn't belong to him. Not yet.

"Oh, sorry." The receptionist smiles sideways, showing that he got the message and liked it. "Down the hall to the left. Here's the key." He extends his hand gives Omega a wink and Matteo half-closes his eyes, staring at the boy's boldness.

Oliva stretches out his arm smiling at the young man, but Matteo was quicker and grabs the key and stares dangerously at the young man who takes a step back and swallows dryly.

"Thank you." Matteo says and the boy makes room for the two, leaving them alone there in the reception area.

"Did you need to scare the boy?" Oliva turns to the alpha and asks in disbelief.

"Yes, I needed to. You're drunk, on the verge of psychological chaos, and with uncontrollable fire between your legs!" He says sarcastically.

The girl takes a deep breath, stares at him angrily, brutally snatches the keys out of his hands, and hurriedly stomps off toward the suite.

Matteo stands still for a few seconds without reacting and soon his mind is made up, she will leave him out. Then he quickly runs towards the girl, however it was already late, she slammed the door heavily making the noise echo throughout most of the building.

"Don't run away from me, Oliv!" He knocks lightly on the door. "Your bag is with me!" the boy argues, but with no answers. "The other bottle of the wine you brought is with me too..."

Oliva was ready to let him sleep in the doorway of that dark, lifeless hallway with dull decor; however, she couldn't take one more sober night. She promptly unzips the door and reaches out to grab her purse, but Matteo quickly pulls it away and the Omega rolls her eyes, taking a step back so he can pass, so he affectionately throws the purse at the girl.

He walks to the window, his back to me, and stares out at the dark garden into the starless night. The storm had passed and calm reigned outside. Quite different from there.

Oliva watches his muscles tauten beneath the light T-shirt Matteo was wearing. The fabric bar is creasing in his lower back, due to the volume of his buttocks covered by the gray sweatpants. The young woman was still standing with the door open, closing it, and she shook her head and stuck her hand inside her luggage and took out her pink wine bottle, and opened it. After calming her heart about the kiss, the last thing she needed was to see that pretty ass to disorient her again.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" He speaks. Oliva's eyes widen. 'Does he know I was looking at his ass? Can he hear thoughts too?' — she thinks. "Are you going to ignore me?" Oliva turns the bottle with the pink liquid occupying her mouth, just in case, so she doesn't have to speak before he does. She stares at Matteo with apparent innocence, and he turns to her. "Right... I'm sorry for, I don't know, for, for the umpteenth time, doing something to you."

Oliva drinks some more.

"It's okay." There is a stunned pause from Matteo, and she blinks. "Ê?"

"Just like that, without squirming, fighting, complaining?" He puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. Oliva confirms with her head, and he frowns. "I can't believe I went through your bags looking for that stupid bottle for nothing." Matteo says uncomplainingly.

"I can't believe it." She watches the alpha indignantly arching an eyebrow. "You're not even good enough to apologize."

"Are you okay, Oliv?" He approaches with an arched eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Hey," Matteo crosses his arms. "If you accepted without question and being annoying and insufferable...didn't you want me to apologize?"

Oliva meditates on that for a second and denies it with her head.

"No."

"No?!"

"You didn't forcibly kiss me, you didn't rape me, you didn't abuse me. And it wasn't bad. You don't have to apologize." She sits down on one of the single beds that were on opposite sides of the small room, looking at him. "Okay, it was wrong. We're married only on paper, and I've made that clear, and I have an involvement with Lian that isn't a recent thing..." Matteo steps closer. "Just because it was wrong, doesn't mean it was.... Bad." He sits down on the bed in front of him, perplexed. "I mean, I get why you brag so much and say some shit thinking you're... I mean... Ah, fuck" She drinks once more from the bottle and abandons her reasoning, she had nothing left to fight with.

I had already broken my head too much thinking about how shaken she felt about her impulsive actions due to her Omega gene. It had happened and now there was nothing else to do.

"... Did you enjoy kissing me?" Matteo mutters more to himself.

Did he only hear that part?

"Ow. I talk about all the negative implications of what happened, about how much trouble this would be for us, and you only listen to the part that your kiss is good?" She grimaces. "Typical of you."

"You liked it" He repeats with a half-smile. "So that means you weren't offended." His dark eyes fix on hers and he notices her pupils dilated by the yellowish light of the room. "What if I kissed you again?"

Oliva stares at him and sees his teasing little smile. Even if her body begged for yes, she would never admit it out loud.

"You want me to kick your precious, don't you?" Oliva retorts swallowing the alcohol with difficulty, almost choking, and points to the middle of Matteo's legs. He looks up and laughs. "What are you laughing at?" Monotone asks. "Are you laughing at me?" He lies down on the bed. "Arch, this is why

I hate you." She picks up a pillow and throws it at him. "Stop laughing, you asshole."

"I'm sorry to inform you, Oliv, but you don't hate me." He speaks between laughs and lifts his shirt, showing his bare back. Matteo points to the scratches on his chest, thin marks of bruised blood in a burgundy coloration. "You didn't seem to hate me when you did that."

"For starters, you pervert, you're the one who told me to take my clothes off." She leaves the bottle on the floor and opens her purse.

"You were sniffing my neck." He replies, and Oliva shrugs. She reaches for pieces of clothing to shower in and pretends to ignore the alpha. "Smelling, all right. You had your nose stuck in me."

"And you were running your hand over me." She raises her gaze to Matteo who is still lying in the same position, hands folded under his head.

"You are sitting up was on top of me."

"You put me on top of you. And you even made me take off my clothes!" She emphasizes the last sentence.

"You were rubbing yourself against my belly." Oliva straightens up on her bed and grabs her bottle of wine again. "Like this." He takes a hand from his head and runs it across his defined abdomen.

The young woman takes a long sip and laughs.

"I was cold, and you were warm. I was looking for a space to settle in."

"Do you remember what you found?"

"I do, pervert." She holds out the bottle of expensive liquid to him. "Would you like some?" Matteo quickly grabs the bottle and drinks it. "Admit you liked it too." She says and he coughs and pulls down his shirt, which was still tucked in, showing his body. "Come on, admit it. If you didn't like it, you wouldn't come and talk about this nonsense to me, or say you wanted it again."

"Arch." He swallows his alcohol and sips his lower lip. "We're settled, right?"

"Yes."