Abby

“Need some company?”

Karl’s eyes slide over to the bottle in my hand, and a slight smirk tugs at the

corners of his l*ps. He scooches aside and nods for me to join him. “Sure.”

I join him as he leans against the wall. Our shoulders brush as we stand beside

one another, a familiar yet bittersweetly nostalgic current of electricity running up

my spine. I tilt the bottle up to my l*ps and take a swig, then hand it to him. He

does the same.

“So…” he starts, but then hesitates, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Enter title…

“What’s up?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, peering down into the bottle as he swirls

the wine around.

“Like what happened the other night?” The words escape before I can rein them

in. A hot flush of embarrassment immediately rises into my cheeks; the alcohol

tonight has made my l*ps looser than usual, and I hate to admit it, but I’ve been

thinking about our k*ss in the pantry a lot tonight.

A beat of silence passes between us.

“You mean the k*ss,” he says softly, looking up at me, his eyes intense and

unreadable. “Abby, I—”

“I want to apologize,” I interrupt. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop,” he says. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I

shouldn’t have done that. It was insensitive and selfish.”

My eyes widen slightly at Karl’s words. I didn’t expect him to apologize like that.

Apologizing isn’t exactly something that the old Karl ever liked to do.

I find myself turning toward him, taking the bottle from his hands. I take a big

swig, then hand it back. Our fingers brush and our eyes meet.

“Karl, I…”

He shakes his head as though reading my mind. “Let’s not talk about it tonight,

okay? Right now, you should be focusing on tomorrow. On your cook-off.”

I blink, looking away to hide my confusion. “Okay,’ I say, though I can’t deny the

ache in my chest, the yearning to press my l*ps to his again. Maybe it’s the wine

talking, or the flowers, or the way his eyes looked when he was in the audience.

But I know I have to ignore it, because Karl is right. “Tomorrow. Got it.”

The tension between us eases a little, but the unsaid words still hover over our

heads, watching, waiting.

Karl takes another deep swig of the wine, as if fortifying himself for something,

then takes a deep breath. “Can I tell you something?”

I nod, turning my head to look at him. The brick wall feels cool against my back.

It’s grounding in a weird way. “Shoot.”

Karl sighs. “So, my brother may wake up soon,” he says quietly. “From his

coma.”

My eyebrows raise. As far as I know, Karl’s brother has been in a coma for a

long time. Years, actually. Karl took over as Alpha in his wake. “Is that a good

thing?” I ask.

He shrugs, swirling the wine around in the bottle again. “Technically, yes,” he

says. “But also…”

“Also…??” I push gently, my mind racing through the implications.

He chuckles. “It’s part of being an Alpha. Showing weakness is not an option.”

“But isn’t it exhausting? Always having to be the strong one?”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, and for a second I see a glimmer of

something raw, something vulnerable. “More than you can imagine,” he admits.

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I reach out, my hand hovering in the air between us, before pulling back. “Why

are you telling me this?”

“That’s a big responsibility,” I murmur. “But I know you can do it. You always

have.”

Karl is silent for a few moments before taking another swig of the wine. He holds

it out for me, but I shake my head, and he shrugs and takes another.

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