Three Strikes
1012 Words
Alyssa
Alyssa woke up slowly. Heavy eyes. Head foggy. Her body hadn’t rested, not really, but something inside her felt quieter.
Cole had stayed on the phone for hours. Just his voice, calm, steady, patient, had done more than sleep ever could. She still didn’t understand it. How could a near-stranger make her feel more grounded than most people she’d known for years?
The pull was strong. Too strong, almost overwhelming.
She sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet pressed to the cold floor, and let the silence hold her for a while. Her apartment felt safe this morning. Not haunted, which was new.
Her stomach turned when she remembered tonight. Another date.
The nerves came in a wave. Familiar. Tight in her chest. But under it—excitement. A low, steady hum.
She moved through her morning slowly. Showered longer than usual. Let the hot water run over her back until the thoughts stopped crowding her.
Nothing felt right.
Everything felt either too much or not enough.
She pulled out a black wrap dress. Soft fabric. Long sleeves. The kind of outfit that didn’t try too hard—but still showed the curve of her waist. Simple. Safe. Clean lines.
She laid it on the bed, then went to the mirror.
Her makeup was light. Just enough to even things out. Concealer under the eyes. A little bronzer. Soft lashes. Clear gloss. She didn’t want it to be dramatic. She wanted to look like herself—but rested. Strong. Alive. Not like the zombie she was currently resembling.
Her hair didn’t cooperate at first. She tied it up. Took it down. Tried again. Finally settled on a half-up style, loose waves trailing down her shoulders.
She stared at her reflection for a long time.
She didn’t look scared.
That surprised her.
The butterflies hadn’t left. But they felt different now. Less like fear. More like hope trying to trust again.
She stepped into the dress. Pulled on a pair of boots—low heel, worn leather, her favorite pair. A small silver necklace. No earrings.
At the door, she paused.
Took one breath. Then another.
It wasn’t just a date.
Not with him.
And she wasn’t just getting ready.
She was choosing to try again.
Cole
Cole adjusted the collar of his jacket, checking the rearview mirror for the third time.
He hadn’t been nervous in over a decade—not for a meeting, not for a deal, not even stepping into a war room full of rival alphas.
But now? Sitting outside Alyssa’s apartment, waiting to knock?
His palms were sweating.
He leaned back in the driver’s seat of his matte black Range Rover and exhaled. “Pull it together.”
It wasn’t just her beauty. Or the scent that had tattooed itself into his mind. It was her presence. Her honesty. The way she laughed and meant it. The way she looked at him like she wasn’t sure she could trust him—but still wanted to try.
He liked that.
He liked her.
A lot.
Before he could second-guess himself, he climbed out and headed for the door. The moment she opened it, he froze.
The black dress. The soft waves. The boots.
She wasn’t flashy. She didn’t need to be. She looked like strength in silk.
His jaw nearly went slack. “Are you trying to kill me before we even get to dinner?”
Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same. That jacket’s doing a lot of heavy lifting.”
He smirked. “You like the jacket?”
“I’m not saying I don’t.”
He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
She locked up and slid her hand through his arm. Her touch still sent heat across his skin like a live wire.
In the car, she glanced around the clean, sleek interior.
“This smells like you.”
He grinned. “Is that good or bad?”
“Not sure yet,” she teased. “Could be dangerous. Might be how you lure unsuspecting women into trusting you.”
“I’ve been caught,” he said with mock defeat. “Guess I’ll have to throw in dinner to seal the trap.”
She laughed, the sound light and unguarded.
“Let me guess,” she said, turning toward him. “You’re the ‘mysterious but emotionally unavailable’ type. Tragic past, brooding eyes, deep secrets?”
He gave her a slow side glance. “You just described 90% of romantic suspense novels.”
“I read a lot,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ve got range.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. God, it felt good to laugh like this. Easy. Real.
“I’ll try not to be a cliché,” he said. “No brooding tonight.”
“No promises?”
“Just one.” He looked over at her briefly, voice quieter. “To make you smile at least five times.”
“Five?” she echoed. “You’re setting a high bar.”
“I like a challenge.”
She grinned. “You’re one for one so far.”
They pulled into a quiet restaurant tucked behind ivy-covered walls. Soft lighting spilled from the windows. No crowds. No noise.
Cole parked and turned to her, voice low but playful. “Ready?”
Alyssa reached for the door. “I was born ready.”
He stepped out and met her at the passenger side, opening the door with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”
She narrowed her eyes, clearly fighting a smile. “You’re dangerously close to strike two.”
He laughed and held the door open anyway.
She stepped out and whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Cole locked the door behind them, shaking his head. “I’m keeping track of every compliment. They’re rare and valuable.”
She rolled her eyes. “You wish.”
And just like that, the tension of the world fell away, at least for a little while.
- Writer
