The Reluctant Mate

Amanda

No matter how hard I tried to deny it, I missed Porter.

It was probably just the bond messing with my mind. I may have known how to break it now, but even the thought of doing so caused my heart to feel like it was being ripped from my chest.

But the thought of accepting the bond made me want to vomit like I’d gotten into that fairy juice again. What a repulsive name for a drink. It sounded like their body fluids, or like someone had juiced fairies. Carrie had assured me that was not the case, it was fairies who usually made it, a lot like regular alcohol. Fairies. Maybe I had hallucinated everything.

But still. I wasn’t sleeping well, and when I did, I kept dreaming of him, and then I woke up missing him more.

It also didn’t help that the nights seemed a hell of a lot more scary now that I knew that there were other things in the darkness. Vampires sounded hot in theory, but I didn’t like the idea that they might be real. I told myself they couldn’t be that bad since we would have heard about mass murders if they really did go on killing sprees, but then again, there were a lot of missing people in the world, and who could say? I’d always thought that people who disappeared either had enough and booted it on their own decision, or were stolen by regular human psychos, but now I knew there were also undead psychos as well to worry about.

Now, whenever I got that creeping feeling like I was being watched, I had to convince myself I wasn’t about to be murdered by a vampire, and then that it wasn’t a human planning the same, before I arrived at the fact I was just being paranoid. But, if werewolves and vampires were real, who knew what else might be lurking in the shadows? Sure, Porter had said that there were weren’t zombies, but he hadn’t sounded very sure.

I guess at least I had a new and improved zombie apocalypse plan, I would go and hide from them with the werewolves. Could werewolves turn into zombies? I had to stop watching so many scary movies.

Even though Porter had thought I wouldn’t remember what he said when I had been sick, I actually had a pretty good drunken memory, and I remembered pretty much all of it. Mostly to my chagrin. I had yelled and bawled and vomited, and he had seen it all. Even thinking about that night made me want to hide under a rock. Sure, my drinking wasn’t super healthy, but I had always kept a bit of control in every situation.

I had woken up the next morning in his bed and I had not spoken to him again after that. He didn’t approach me, and I didn’t approach him, even though I saw him a few times before I left his pack. Maybe he didn’t want me now that he knew how bad I was. How broken I was. From what Carrie had said, he still would, but I had trouble believing it. I was too much trouble.

And deep down I wasn’t sure about anything. So I’d been sitting on the couch stuffing my face with ice cream again. I’d gained five pounds, and I wasn’t happy about that.

I texted Carrie.

Would Porter even still want to see me?

I had to wait for a response, and I sat on the couch chewing my nails while I did it even though I thought I’d kicked the habit. Darn it. My pretty nail polish was all chipped at the ends. I’d have to redo them.

Of course he would if you want to. Do you want to?

Maybe? I don’t know.

It’s up to you. He’s managing okay for now considering, so it would be better if you did once you’re sure.

I’m never going to be sure.

I was being pulled in two directions. There was another pause before she answered.

I’m not trying to pressure you, but if you care for him at all, you need to make a decision one way or another at some point. He is coping, but this is hard for him. If it’s over, he’ll have a chance to find someone else, but he can’t do that until there’s closure.

The idea of him with someone else made me want to vomit. Or scratch someone’s eyes out. I closed my eyes and texted Carrie back.

I miss him.

He misses you.

Tell him I’ll meet him at Coffee Buzz at seven on Wednesday night.

That gave me a couple of days to get my head straight.

I’ll do that. Good luck.

Apparently I was really doing this. I threw my head back on the couch and stared at the light fixture above me. What was I even going to say to him?

Porter was already waiting when I arrived, which was not according to plan. I came fifteen minutes early to be the first one there. How long had he been waiting?

I swallowed hard as I crossed the café. “I’ll have my regular,” I told the barista as I passed by and sat across from him. He looked really good, but also really bad. There were new shadows under his eyes, and he looked like he had built muscle since I had last seen him, but out of tension, not increased attention to fitness.

“Hello, Amanda,” he said and I shivered. I had missed his husky tones more than I was willing to admit.

“Hello, Porter,” I responded automatically. “So, uh, what did Carrie tell you?”

“Just to meet you here.”

I nodded. Well, good. That way he didn’t have his hopes up. For two days I had swung back and forth on my decision and I was still hanging in the breeze. I knew what I wanted but I was terrified I was wrong again.

Our order came up—Porter must have already ordered before I arrived—and I went and grabbed it before he got a chance. I brought them back and handed him his drink.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I closed my eyes and tried to force my rampaging thoughts into coherent words. “I’ve missed you,” slipped out of my mouth without passing through my brain first.

His eyebrows were raised in shock. He’d probably believed I’d come here to reject him. The thought made me feel as sick as the idea of getting trapped in another bad relationship.

I tried to explain. “I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. I didn’t want to be with anyone, but I’m going to give you a chance.”

He just blinked at me for a long moment. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. But…” I took a sip of my drink and slightly burned my tongue.

“But?”

“You can’t control me. I’m going to do what I want, whenever I want.”

He didn’t look happy with my statement. His expression made me want to retract and shut this down now.

Instead, I straightened, not that it did anything to put me on the same level as him. I’d always be at a physical disadvantage with a man his size, let alone a werewolf. But I still had to set the lines that I wasn’t going to tolerate being crossed. “That’s not negotiable. No messing with my mind, no gas lighting, no telling me who I can and cannot be friends with, no following me, no undermining me, no—”

“Do you really think I would do that to you?” He looked angry…and hurt.

I ignored the part of me that wanted me to lie to pacify him. “I don’t know.” I didn’t know Steven was going to do things like that when I met him. I had been completely fooled by the handsome man and his charming attention, and Porter was so much more handsome and charming than my ex had ever been. His touch alone was enough to make my brain take a permanent vacation.

And I had seen signs of those same controlling behaviours in Porter already. Was I stupid to even give him a chance in spite of them? But he had looked so relieved when I hadn’t rejected him it hurt to think of changing my mind. And I did want to try this just as much as I wanted to avoid it. “And no other women.”

“Yes. But I want the same from you. No other men.”

“Yeah, okay.” It wasn’t like there was anyone who could compare with him anyway. “But I can talk to anyone I want. Anyone. And, if we’re trying this relationship—” I said, my voice catching on the word “—thing, I want to go slow—or at least slower.” I didn’t really want to go slower because even though it had been a long time, I still perfectly remembered every moment with him in my bed and I craved more of the same. But it was the right move. I needed to have self-control and feel this thing out first. I took another sip of my drink.

“Okay.”

“And I might think of more things you’re not allowed to do,” I added.

He smiled. “Fine. I agree to what you’ve said so far, but I’m not promising to always obey you.”

I wondered what he meant by that. “Oh?”

“I’d be lying if I said I was going to play your obedient dog, Amanda. But I’ll always listen to what you say. This thing, between us, doesn’t make me want to restrict you. Yes, I want to protect you, be with you…” he trailed off, and it made his words sound suggestive, “and I will be jealous sometimes, I can’t help that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No jealousy.”

“I can’t help that. It’s an emotion. It’s my nature.”

“I don’t like it.” A flash of my ex and his temper if he caught me innocently talking to other men flared in my memory.

“That doesn’t mean I’ll act on it, but I can’t help how I feel about the idea of other men touching you.” He looked at me seriously and his eyes pleaded for me to understand. “But I’m not Steven.”

My heart felt like it stopped at that name from Porter’s mouth.