Bait & Switch (Alphas Undone #1)

“Then go to her.” She wiped the tear away with the back of her hand. “Give her everything.”


I had expected shock and confusion, anger and fear, all gushing out in a big, ugly explosion. But Daniella’s hazel eyes held only weary resignation. I had never seen her look so purely sad.

Finally, she put her book aside and sat up. “I figured it would turn out this way.”

Say what? I stammered, “You . . . did?”

Daniella sighed. It was an empty sound. “Earlier today, Lacey came by to talk. She told me everything.” She wet her lips. “I realized that you’re . . . in love with her. Like, for real. So I’m glad you’re not letting me get in the way of that.”

I fought through my surprise, trying to process everything she had just said. Deep in the back of my mind, I felt a faint, shameful gratitude that Lacey had laid some of the groundwork for me. But mostly I just felt like shit. It was bad enough that I was cutting off Daniella—but she had to hear the news from the very woman who’d stolen my heart?

She forged ahead through my conflicted silence. “You’re a good man. You’ve done so much for me. I just want you to be happy, and if Lacey makes you happy, then I understand.”

I shouldn’t argue with Daniella when she was trying to make this easy. But I couldn’t stand the thought of her playing the martyr. I couldn’t let her step back into her old, worn role of the cool girl who laughed off every insult, always “up for anything,” never inconveniencing anyone with her pain. The good sub who served all her master’s whims, who was paraded around in public and ignored at home. The smart, generous, hardworking woman who tried her best . . . yet always ended up left behind.

“I’ve always known this day was coming,” she went on. “Ever since I moved in two years ago. You’re a good catch. I knew you’d eventually meet a woman who wasn’t okay with sharing.” She blinked rapidly, her voice growing hoarse with emotion. “And . . . I’ve been doing some thinking. In the long run, this is better for me too.”

“Daniella, I don’t want to hurt you. Where will you—”

“Stop feeling guilty and listen to me.”

I shut the hell up. Daniella gave a long, loud sniff before continuing.

“I needed a wake-up call like this. I’ve been hiding for too long. I let my ex poison my life. I didn’t want to see him and his new sub, so I avoided places I once loved. I didn’t want to meet another man like him, so I haven’t even tried dating for two years.”

“But that’s okay, isn’t it? You needed a break.”

Actually, she had needed a safe place to rest her heart. Even now, after so long, she still couldn’t bring herself to say that asshole’s name.

Her lower lip quivered and she looked away, steeling her resolve. “Yeah, it was okay . . . for a while. But it’s time for me to get back on my own two feet. Make a fresh start. Find a way to be truly happy again, not just comfortable. Because sometimes . . .” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Comfortable is just another way of saying afraid.”

Taken aback, I nodded soberly. She had put it into better words than I ever could. I knew what it was like to cage myself in fear. Both Daniella and I had organized our whole lives around avoiding the inevitable, terrified of connection and the risks that came with it. As much as I hated to admit it, we’d been holding each other back. Using each other as security blankets, so that we never had to grow up and move on.

Looking back on the past few years, I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I thought I’d singlehandedly discovered the secret to happiness, but all I’d really done was given up trying. It had taken Lacey to make me understand that. To make me see the light.

As Daniella’s tears finally started to flow, I knelt and gathered her close. “Come here.”

She buried her crumpled face into my shoulder. Her lean body shook in my arms. Normally she stood so tall, so self-assured, exuding an air of effortless grace, but right now she seemed small and fragile and lost. Needing to be taken care of.

Although I could never be her Dom again, I could still offer refuge as her friend. I could still give her this space to fall apart, free from shame or fear. And when she was ready to pull herself together and move forward again, I would be there to help.

I held her tight for a long time. Until her sobs smoothed out into deep, heavy breaths.

Not knowing what else to say, I mumbled into her hair, “You can keep my damn sweatshirt if you want. I know it’s your favorite.”

She forced a chuckle. The little hmph sound was pathetic and snot-clogged, and for a second, I wondered if she’d be okay without me.

“No, it’s yours, and I shouldn’t hang on to anything from here, anyway. Fresh start, remember?” She pushed herself out of my arms.

Realizing where she was going, I said, “You don’t have to start moving out right now. Lacey would understand if you stayed another week. Or even through the end of the month.”