Obsessed With My Alpha

My First Kiss

Gema's POV

I step into the Sigma frat house around 10 p.m., later than planned but determined to make an appearance. I need to be social tonight, to let loose, to have fun. It’s been tough making friends lately—ever since Jonah and I stopped talking, I’ve felt this strange, lonely distance from everyone around me. But tonight, I’m putting that aside. I’m here to make memories, to maybe even find someone cute to flirt with. Maybe I’ll even go for my first kiss if I’m lucky. Losing my v-card might be a stretch, but a girl can dream.

The music is pounding, the bass heavy enough to feel in my chest, and the smell of cheap beer fills the air as I glance around the room. Frat guys in the corner are doing keg stands, trying to impress their friends, while the dance floor is packed with she-wolves, all dressed to kill. As I walk in, I feel a few sets of eyes trailing over me. The guys give me appreciative, lingering looks that make my skin prickle, while the she-wolves throw me silent glares that practically scream “slut.” I shake it off, lifting my chin and heading straight for my sorority pledge sisters.

“Hi, Victoria, Michelle, Laura, Becca!” I say cheerfully, grabbing a vodka soda from the drink table.

“Hey, girl!” they all chirp back, barely glancing up from their intense gossip circle.

“I heard Jonah’s back on the market, ladies…” Becca squeals, making my stomach twist. Hearing his name feels like a punch, like the past I’m trying to escape has followed me here. I plaster on a smile, but I can’t stay here any longer. It’s time to move on.

I walk away, my drink in hand, but suddenly, the lights in the room flicker, plunging us into darkness. An excited cheer erupts from the crowd, and someone’s voice booms over the speakers.

“All right, ladies and gents, it’s time for Lights Out! Grab the person you’ve been eyeing and give ‘em a kiss!”

I barely have a second to process what’s happening when a strong, warm hand grips mine. I drop my drink as I’m pulled toward a solid, unyielding chest. Before I can even catch my breath, an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close. The smell hits me first—rich, woodsy, with a hint of something fresh and familiar, and I feel my stomach do a flip. I recognize that scent. I know that scent.

“You smell like heaven,” he breathes, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine. It’s Jonah. My heart stutters, confusion and excitement warring within me. Why is he here? Why is he doing this?

He pulls me in even tighter, his hard muscles pressed against my softer curves, and the heat of his body is dizzying. I can feel his breath ghosting over my neck, his lips dangerously close to my ear. “And you’re so soft,” he murmurs, his words sinking into me like a brand.

Before I can process any of it, his lips find mine, capturing me in a kiss that steals my breath. The world falls away, the pounding music, the shouting voices—it all fades into nothing. All I can feel is him, the pressure of his mouth against mine, the way he holds me as though I’m something precious he can’t bear to let go of.

I melt, fireworks exploding behind my closed eyes as he deepens the kiss, exploring my mouth with an intensity that leaves me lightheaded. His hand tightens around my waist, pulling me even closer, until there’s no space left between us. I feel like I’m floating, like I’m on clouds, my core heating with every brush of his lips, every touch of his fingers.

The kiss is everything I never knew I wanted, leaving me breathless and aching, every nerve ending alight. I don’t know what’s happening or what this means, but in this moment, I don’t care. All I know is that I want more and I never want this moment to end.

The lights flicker back on, and I blink, dazed and breathless, as I find myself staring up into Jonah’s eyes—those familiar, intense blue eyes that have always held so much warmth, but now seem darker, filled with something I don’t understand. He’s smiling at me, and for a second, I feel my heart twist, like maybe there’s something real in that look. But reality crashes over me, and I can’t help the frown that forms as I pull myself back from the blissful haze he left me in.

“What is this, Jonah?” I demand, my voice harsher than I intended. “What kind of game are you playing with me? Is this payback… or what? Why would you mess with my emotions like that?” My words sting even as I say them, but I can’t hold them back. I feel hurt, embarrassed, and confused all at once, and I need answers.

He looks genuinely shocked, his face a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “I would never do that to you, little cheeks,” he says, his voice softening as he calls me by that old nickname, the one he’s used since we were kids.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap, stepping back to put some distance between us. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shield myself from the vulnerability of this moment. My skin still tingles from that kiss, that perfect, breathtaking kiss that was everything I never knew I wanted. And that only makes it worse, makes me feel more exposed, more unsure. “Damn, that was the best kiss,” I mutter under my breath, more to myself than to him. “If I knew it could feel that good—”

But before I can finish, he reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me from my thoughts, his touch firm and insistent. He doesn’t say a word, just guides me through the crowd, moving with a purpose I don’t quite understand. I barely have time to think, let alone protest, as he leads me down a dimly lit hallway and into one of the rooms.

The door clicks shut behind us, and I realize this must be his room. The air between us feels thick, charged with a tension that’s both exhilarating and terrifying. I’m acutely aware of every step he takes closer, of the way he looks at me as though he’s seeing me for the first time, and I feel my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

“Gema…” His voice is low, almost hesitant, as though he’s still trying to find the right words.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze meeting mine with something that looks almost like regret. I brace myself, hoping for the words I’ve been dreaming he’ll say, hoping he’ll tell me there’s something real between us, something he wants to explore. But when he finally speaks, it’s like the air leaves my lungs.

“I’m sorry, Gema,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know why I did that. It was a mistake… maybe we can just forget it happened, act like it never did?”

My heart sinks, an ache blooming in my chest that’s so raw it nearly takes my breath away. I feel my pulse hammering in my ears, and I can barely hold his gaze, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment and disappointment. How could I have let myself hope, even for a second, that he’d feel the same?

Before I can fully process his words, I find myself nodding, agreeing to his terms, a hollow “Yeah… sure,” slipping past my lips. My voice sounds small, foreign, as if I’m watching myself from outside my own body. I turn to leave, desperate to get out of there, to put as much distance between us as I can before I completely fall apart.

But just as I start to walk away, he catches my arm, pulling me back. I turn to face him, my heart still clinging to that thread of hope, hoping for something more, some sign that he might be as torn up as I am. But his eyes hold only the same conflicted look as before.

“Can I kiss you one last time?” he asks, his voice low, like it’s supposed to be comforting. But instead, it only makes the ache in my chest worse. It’s like he’s asking for one last piece of me before letting me go, like he can just take what he wants without caring about the damage it leaves behind.

I feel the anger rise up, swift and fierce, burning away the hurt just enough for me to act. Before I even realize what I’m doing, my hand comes up, and I slap him across the face, the sound sharp and echoing in the small room. His head snaps to the side, and he looks at me, stunned, his hand going to his cheek as he stares at me in disbelief.

“That’s for playing with my feelings,” I manage, my voice shaking, my vision blurring with tears. I don’t wait to see his reaction. I turn and storm out, my head held high even as my heart feels like it’s crumbling with every step.

I push through the crowded hallway, tears slipping down my cheeks as I stumble over my own feet in my rush to get out of there. I don’t care about the curious stares, the murmurs from people as I pass. All I care about is escaping, getting as far away from him as possible.

The cool night air hits my face as I finally make it outside, and I let out a shaky breath, wiping at my tears as I try to gather myself. But the ache in my chest doesn’t fade. It only deepens, settling into something raw and hollow, leaving me wondering how I ever thought I could survive this heartbreak.