by Sara Summers
With Steven trying to murder me and Jordie acting like I didn’t exist, I was fairly sure that honesty with myself could mean the end of me. As much as I tried to be some tough, emotionless panther, that wasn’t me. I cared about things, I was sensitive. If I had to admit how I felt about all the crap going on…
That would be the most painful thing I’d ever experienced. No family, and no soulmate. That was the equivalent of no hope, so I ignored it.
I clicked the red X in the corner of the document tab and closed my laptop.
To get my mind off of, well, my mind, I grabbed my kindle and forced myself to read and mostly enjoy a book I’d already read seven or eight times.
There were only three chapters left when someone twisted the handle on the door.
I looked up, waiting for Steven or some other mafia member to waltz in and stab me to death.
Instead, Jordie came inside with quite a few grocery bags in his hands. He didn’t seem to mind the weight of all the groceries, but he did look a little surprised to see me.
Still, he didn’t say anything, just putting the bags down on the counter and getting started on sorting them.
I watched for a few minutes, studying this guy who was supposed to be my mate. He was quiet, sure, and part of me thought that was because he was uncomfortable around me. The more I watched him, though, the more comfortable he seemed. His shoulders were relaxed and he wasn’t trying to hurry through his grocery-sorting process.
So that couldn’t be it.
Maybe he just didn’t like me?
I watched him glance at me out of the corner of his eyes as he walked around the small kitchen, dealing with the groceries absentmindedly while really paying attention to me.
No, he didn’t dislike me.
I wondered if maybe he just didn’t know how to talk to me, or if he didn’t know how to act while he wasn’t sure what I wanted our relationship to be.
I felt like I’d hit the jackpot with that one. But, I didn’t know the answer to either of those questions, so I had no idea what to do.
After meeting people of all cultures and ethnicities and upbringings, I knew one thing: people loved talking about themselves, even if they didn’t want to admit it.
So I leaned over to the coffee table and picked up a little statue of a sunflower that had been painted every color of the rainbow. I studied it for a few seconds before looking over at Jordie.
“Where did this come from?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Then why is it one of two decorations in your apartment?” I countered, pointing to the other one, which was a framed picture of a beach and the ocean.
“Please, don’t ask questions.” He closed his eyes for a second, like he needed to regain his bearings. “It really doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to you.” I stood up, strolling over to the kitchen and standing in front of him, holding the statue out for him to take. “Why does it matter to you?”
Jordie sighed and reached up to massage his neck.
“A little girl gave it to me.” He finally admitted.
“A girl from your class?” I checked.
“No.” he gently put it down on the counter.
“Then who? A girlfriend from your elementary school days?”
“No, I never had a girlfriend.” He closed his eyes again.
“Who gave it to you?” I asked, more gently this time.
“My little sister. Please don’t ask me about her.” He carefully slid the flower across the counter so it was far enough away that it wouldn’t be in danger of getting hurt, broken, or destroyed.
“If this is going to work between us, you’ll have to tell me eventually.” I said before I walked back over to my place on the couch. Just as I sat down, my stomach growled loudly.
“I bought dinner.” He pulled two plastic white trays out of another grocery bag. I hadn’t noticed that one when he walked in. “Sorry you had to be hungry all day.”
“It’s fine. I’ve been through worse.” I brushed it off. He handed me my carton of food and sat down on the couch opposite mine.
“What have you been through?” he frowned.
I popped open my takeout box and was enveloped in a cloud of the most glorious smell—Chinese food.
Panda Express was nothing like Chinese food in the heart of China, but it would do just fine.
“Mmm. I love Chinese.” I smiled, shoveling a bite into my mouth.
“Really, what have you been through?” Jordie’s frown grew to his eyes.
“You know,” I said through a mouthful of rice. “this is my favorite type of food, and I’ve tried a lot of different food from a lot of different places.”
“You’re changing the subject.” Jordie disapproved of my attempt at distraction.
“Really, I’ve had a lot. Still, my stomach belongs to China.”
“I know, you’ve put it on your blog a bunch of times. Plus, you walked all over Italy looking for Chinese food one day rather than stopping at any of one hundred pasta places.”
“I had a craving.” I shrugged, shoveling more food into my mouth. “And you’re definitely a stalker.” Still, there were plenty of worse things he could be. Call me crazy, but stalker sounded great compared to the other panthers I had met.
Plus he taught elementary school, so I figured he had to have more depth than just the stalker level.
“Back to what we were talking about before… what have you been through?” he repeated the question.
“Look,” I put my fork down. “this questions thing works both ways. If you want me to answer questions about myself, you have to answer questions about yourself. Right now, you owe me a lot of answers, because I know nothing about you while you’ve been stalking me for eight months.
“You’ve read my blog and met my brother, and yet you refuse to answer a simple question about your sister. So until you tell me about you, I’m not telling you anything about me. Got it?”
Jordie nodded, then refocused on his dinner while I refocused on mine.
I ate a lot faster than he did, and when I finished, I went back to studying him.
He glanced at me a lot, and it almost seemed like he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. I could tell by how slowly he ate that he wasn’t a huge fan of Chinese, but apparently he was willing to deal with it to get me what he knew I loved.
That definitely said something.
For some reason, he cared about me.
But then again, he’d been following me around the world for eight months. If he cared enough to do that without attacking or molesting me, there had to be some substance to him.
When he finished eating, he pulled out a pile of papers and I grabbed my kindle to finish reading my book. After I made it through those last three chapters, I looked up at him and saw him smiling at something he read.
I walked over to him, standing behind the couch he’d claimed and leaning forward so I could read the paper.
The handwriting was terrible, but I saw it said,
Deer Mr. Jordee,
I am glad to meet you. You are realy nise. I like purple and cats and resess. Thanks for the candey, it was good.
Love Sadie
I smiled.
“She sounds adorable. You get to grade papers like that all the time?”
“Yeah. I love those kids.” He nodded. My hair fell in my face, so I reached up to push it to the side. While I moved it, my hand brushed against his shoulder.
Jordie took a sharp breath in, and I saw his shoulders tense up.
I hurried to step away, then looked over at him. Instead of the anger I expected to find on his face, the expression he wore could be described with only one word:
Desire.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, no one’s— never mind.” He dropped the papers on the couch and practically ran to the bathroom, turning on the shower before I could even try to say anything.
I sat down on his couch and picked up the stack
of papers, rereading the cute letter.
I smiled, then felt my happiness fade as I tried to avoid thinking about one of the main reasons I had been avoiding my mate, other than because I thought he was old.
I’d only ever explained it to a few of my girls, and only ever really talked about it with Leah and Marley. Even thinking the words would hurt too much, so I shoved the memories as far away as I could before they could leak into my thoughts.
I had to distract myself, so I went to work trying to figure out what Jordie had almost said.
No one’s… ever read over my shoulder? Seen my class’s work? Read letters meant for me?
None of those sounded like viable reasons for the desire written on his face or his quick getaway.
No one’s… what?
Then it occurred to me that he’d been following me around for eight months, all alone. That meant no one had touched him in eight months. No hugs, and probably only one or two handshakes. If he was a touchy guy that would definitely affect him.
I decided that had to be it, and if I wanted him to open up to me, I’d have to touch him. That didn’t come naturally to me, not one bit, but since he needed it I could handle it. He was protecting me, after all, and even if we weren’t going to end up acting as real mates would, I could at least give him that one thing he desperately wanted.
When he finally got out of the shower and threw some pajama pants on, I was already sitting on the bed in a big t-shirt and my comfiest leggings (they happened to have Aztec-y designs on them, which made them extra cool).
His eyes widened when he saw me laying there, reading a book. I may or may not have been pretending to read. I refuse to admit either way.
“Uh, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He reached up to his neck as I looked up from my book.
“This is your bed. If one of us is sleeping on the couch, it’s me.” I told him bluntly.
Yes, I may have been misusing the fact that I’d discovered he cared about me, but all’s fair in love and war, right?
“You’re not sleeping on the couch.” He protested.
“Then neither are you.” I yawned as huge as I could, and it may or may have not been staged. I won’t admit to that either.
“I’m exhausted, and I call this side of the bed.” I said, slipping under the covers. “Turn off the light?” I checked.
“Sure.” Jordie flipped the light off, then padded over to the bed.
I pretended to fall asleep on my side of the mattress, and fifteen minutes later, “accidentally” rolled onto his side, draping half my chest and one of my arms over his gloriously bare upper half.
He moved a little uncomfortably, but a second later, started playing with my short, blonde hair.
When that started, I couldn’t keep myself awake any longer. I fell asleep in his arms and, for the first time in my life (as far as I could remember), didn’t worry about waking up with any unpleasant surprises (such as a knife in my chest).
For that reason, it was the best night I had ever lived/slept through.
Chapter 4
The next two weeks continued exactly the same. Jordie left early in the morning, usually forgetting (I figured he probably forgot on purpose) to even say goodbye. I posted things to my blog and spent more time on Pinterest than any human or shifter has a right to, and when I got bored of that, I read a book or two.
Or six. Yes, one day I read six books.
I avoided writing the same way Jordie avoided opening up to me—like it would mean my death. I refused to even acknowledge it as an option no matter how great the boredom was that I faced.
Every day, Jordie would come home, then we would eat takeout or he would cook something (he always refused to let me help, of course). We would ask each other questions that we knew the other person wouldn’t answer, and then I would touch his face or shoulders or leg (like it was an accident, of course) and he would take off to the shower to hide.
Then we went to bed.
As you can probably imagine, those two weeks I felt like I was a block of cheese, slowly letting Jordie grate the life out of me. Living with someone you know nothing about who supposedly is your soulmate really sucks, for the record.
When Jordie left one day in the middle of the third week, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hello?” Leah’s voice was groggy when she answered the phone.
“I swear I’m going crazy.” I didn’t wait for her to really wake up before talking. “Brooke was right, this really is Beauty and the Beast. I’m trapped in this tiny apartment and I’m going insane. He dodges all my questions and acts like he’s not attracted to me and I’ve been trying so effing hard but he doesn’t want me.” I threw my spare hand up in the air and started pacing the room.
“Wow.” Leah yawned. “What time is it?” I glanced at the clock.
“8:30.”
“Maybe for you.” She groaned. “It’s 5:30 here.”
“Who cares what time it is, I’m about to explode!” I put a hand on my forehead. “I didn’t even mention that he teaches second grade. Second grade! He loves kids, which puts me in an awkward situation. What the eff am I supposed to do?” I demanded, pacing faster.
“Have you shifted in the last few days?” Leah checked.
“That’s not going to help with anything.” I protested.
“Look, I’ve been talking to women in situations like yours for months now. I’m taking over as your doctor, and you have to do what I say.” Leah yawned again. “Go for a run. I know you’re queen of forcing your panther to feel whatever you’re feeling, but this once, listen to what she has to say. She’s better at this than you, and Jordie’s only your other half because you have her too.
“Stay in the forest for at least an hour, and when you come back, take a really long bath. Then I want you to lay down with some piano music playing and write in your journal, okay?” she yawned again.
“You’re not my psychiatrist, Lee.”
“But I am your friend. Just try it, please?”
“Fine.” I sighed. “Love ya.”
“Love you too. It’ll work out, I promise.”
“I hope you’re right. Bye.” I hung up the phone and took a seat on the couch, wondering exactly when I’d decided I did want it to work out.
I guess sometime between trying to be sneaky about touching him and avoiding his questions, I had started to care about Jordie. Given my record with family members, I wasn’t sure whether I should be worried, take off before it was too late, or hide in the forest until he gave up on me.
In other words, every person I’d ever loved that the Creator had given me—my parents, my brother and his mate, my aunts and uncles—they all hurt me. Now that I had (or didn’t have) Jordie from the same Creator who’d given me everyone else, my gut said I needed to get out.
The only part of me that pushed me to stay was my heart. She insisted that Jordie was a person we desperately needed, and that we couldn’t run because that could mean losing him.
I was tired of fighting my heart.
Traveling the world, wearing an attitude that wasn’t mine as a mask, running from the people who were supposed to care about and protect me… it grated me too. If I had ever started as a full block of cheese, I most definitely down to a mushy little crumb.
There was nothing left of me to lose anymore. Whoever I had been was gone. The only piece of me that I had left was my determination to break Jordie’s walls, and I had no idea why I bothered with being determined to do that.
Rather than allowing myself to think too much about that, I distracted myself with a book. When Jordie got home that evening I told him I wanted to shift.
“Alright. I’ll come with you.” He nodded, standing up and grabbing his coat.
“Sweet.” I gave him a small smile and grabbed my own coat. February was almost over, but it was still colder outside than it ever really got in my hometown in Washington.
We hurried out to the car, and even when the heaters had been blastin
g for a few minutes, I couldn’t stop shivering.
“Are you okay?” Jordie looked over at me, worried.
“F-f-f-fine.” I tried to nod, but my shivering concealed it.
“Here, scoot over.” He lifted the console, which morphed into a middle seat. “I’m warm.” He said.
I wasn’t going to protest, at least not in the cold. Besides, touching him was part of my plan to win over my man.
I cuddled against his side, and Jordie wrapped an arm around me. Though there wasn’t a lot of heat coming through both of our heavy coats, I did start to warm up a little.
He drove the rest of the fifteen minutes with his other hand, and he didn’t seem to mind that I was preventing him from driving 100% safely.
He parked on the edge of the forest, and we sat in the car for a minute.
“I’ll go shift outside. You can do it in here.” He said, shutting off the car.
“No, this is your car.” I used my usual argument, though I was still shivering. “If either of us is going outside, it’s me.”
He grabbed my arm before I could grab the door handle.
“Fine, then we’re both shifting in here. You face that way, I’ll face this way.” He frowned, but turned to face the direction he had assigned himself.
The panthers I knew cared less about modesty than most other types of shifters, but I let him have his way. If he didn’t want a peek, he didn’t need one.
The car began to heat up as we took off our clothes, though the engine was off and the car should’ve been cooling down. I glanced backward and saw Jordie looking at me with red cheeks, though all I saw of him was his bare back.
“Ready?” I lifted an eyebrow. He swallowed.
“Yeah.” He nodded once.
“Alright, open your door on three. One, two, three.” I opened my door and jumped out, shifting on the way down. Then, I used my paw to shut the door.
When I turned to look at the forest, I saw Jordie running into the trees.
I couldn’t let my mate get away from me, so I took off as fast as I could, following him into the forest and down an unmarked trail that he seemed to have run a bunch of times. When he stopped running to jump into a tree, I followed suit.
