Make You Mine (Editing)

Chapter Twelve

I couldn't get it off my mind no matter how hard I tried. It was an ongoing movie in my head that admit I never wanted to stop. The feel of her lips still lingered on my own. How I felt in that moment would never compare to any other. There was no doubt in my mind that she was made for me. 

At night, my dreams consist of the possibility of what the kiss could've lead to. There was no self-control to hold me back. My arms wrapped around her waist and my hands held her body closer to mine. I pushed her up against the door and she pressed herself into me. Shivers went down my spine as her hands tangled in my hair.

I wanted her. I needed her. 

She was the craving my sweet tooth desired to taste every inch of her.    

I regret running away from Ophelia. I was afraid of what she might have felt than what I had felt. She appeared shocked and puzzled from the unexpected kiss, but then she started to kiss back. I did not know what she felt, but she had to feel something whether it was approval or disgust, it was there.

My wolf has been going insane. Whining and howling nonstop to be with our mate. My mood swings were impossible to restrain. When I snapped at my own mother, I knew I needed to do something fast.

I consulted with my father. I asked him if I should mark Ophelia, but he vehemently disagreed. He said if I were to mark her other wolves will noticed and soon after Alpha Evans will find out about me, about us. I had to protect my mate, and that's what I wanted to do. I wanted Ophelia to wear my mark, yet I wanted her to be protected from harm more.

Every hour since our unforgettable kiss, I pondered ways to express my feelings to her. I needed to get it off my chest, for they were suffocating me. I wanted her to know how much I cared about her, how much she deserved to treat like princess, and how much I just want to see her smile and cherish every second with her until the end of time. I never thought when I found my mate it would be this difficult. It was hard to keep to all this knowledge and emotions deeply desired to convey inside and suppressed. I felt like I was going to explode from it all.

My bed room door slammed open with a loud boom.

"Get up, Brody!" Scott boomed from the doorway.

I cringed at the thought of having to get up and leave my bed to face reality. I placed a pillow over my head to block the bright light that entered from the hallway from my eyes.

"Get out, Scott," I groaned.

I heard him stalk closer to me. The pillow was removed from my face and the light burned my eyes.

"Get up!" He exclaimed.

"Do I have to?" I whined.

"Yes, you have to. Your part of the football team and Coach Moran doesn't care if you have straight A's, your ass better be at school, or he'll come here himself and drag you there."

I sat up on the bed and gazed up at Scott with one eye open. "You're right. I could've told you that."

"Come on! It's spirit week and our homecoming game is Friday," Scott said.

"As if I'm going to be playing in it. My first practice was last week," I pointed out.

"You got the hang of it, and if you work your ass off in practice, you'll most likely play Friday." Scott yanked me up by my arm. I nearly crashed down on the floor as I tried to steady my balance.

"Alright, I'm getting up!" I said and stepped away from him toward my bathroom.

Scott walked to door to leave. "Good and take a shower. You look like crap."