“I meant it,” I whisper, my emotions clogging my throat.
His head snaps up as fragile hope blooms inside him, but he doesn’t dare try and touch me again. Instead, he sits completely still. Waiting.
“I didn’t mean to complete a bond I didn’t know we had,” I clarify with a sniff, and his shoulders sag. “But that night, I did mean to…I don’t know, stay connected to you. Between what I am and what I plan to do, there’s a distinct possibility that I won’t be dying of old age.”
A low growl vibrates in Connor’s chest that makes me want to roll a newspaper so I can smack it over his head.
“Oh no you don’t,” I chastise, sitting up taller and crossing my arms over my chest. “You simmer back down. This isn’t time for protector mode. This is ‘you listen because you really screwed up’ time.”
He deflates and I feel like crap. It’s really difficult to hold on to my anger when I can literally feel how fragile he is on the inside. My strong, silent wolf is littered with invisible wounds that are as raw as my own.
Goddamn it!
“Look,” I begin, dropping my feet to the ground mere inches from his knees. “I’m mad that you used my ignorance to complete the bond. You knew I didn’t understand what you were asking of me, and right now, I can’t tell if it was an oversight out of desperation or something you counted on.”
His guilt is a living thing inside him, coiling around me through our bond, and I start to cry because it feels like an anchor dragging us both down. Our breaths match in broken gasps as our pain feeds off of each other.
“Reina,” he breathes, the endearment a plea on his lips. “I love you.”
“I believe you, but you still kept this from me,” I rasp. My heart is like shattered glass, its sharp edges cutting through all the bindings that hold me together.
Because we both need it, I reach out for him, and he immediately pulls me into his arms. My legs split in an awkward straddle over his lap, held up more by his grip around my body than any actual work on my part. He presses his face to my neck, his frightened tears absorbed by my shirt.
“You haven’t lost me,” I assure him, running one of my hands through his loose, dark curls, while the other rubs as far as I can reach down his back. “I…I love you too.”
Connor’s whole body shudders with my words, and he presses his lips to my neck. Heat snakes within me as his lips climb up my skin, his entire being a fire that can consume me if I let it. I want to let it. To have this betrayal slip away under his doting touch and instead be filled with the joy of his love. But then I’d be repeating the same mistake. Pushing away what’s uncomfortable for what’s easy. Ignoring problems doesn’t make them go away.
I pull back when his kiss reaches my chin, and meet his searching eyes with a look of regret. “I love you, but I still need time. Time to be angry…and to figure some things out.”
As much as I love Connor, he’s not the only one. I love them all, even if they don’t all necessarily love me. Is it fair to build a relationship with him when I can’t promise my heart only to him?
I’d expect this realization of my feelings to come with a jolt of shock. At the very least a small, “Eureka!” followed by the downward spiral of how fucked I am. It’s one thing to be attracted to all the guys—they are very attractive—but it’s another thing to love them… to be in love with them. But since I’ve accepted that nothing in my life can be simple or easy, this acknowledgement seems to settle within me like a lost puzzle piece. One more link in this convoluted tapestry that is me.
Since I’m also the queen of mixed messages, I kiss him on the cheek before untangling myself from his embrace. Connor stays on the floor, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes and uncertainty.
“I’m not saying no,” I tell him, resting my fists on my hips. Digging my toes into the soft carpet, I add with an annoyed glare, “Then again, you still haven’t really asked me out. I know I haven’t had a boyfriend before, but I’m pretty sure a date is supposed to go before confessions of love. Probably also before completing a mate bond, but that ship has already sailed.”
He seems almost dizzy with the way I leap between moods—going from wounded and sad to annoyed and snarky within seconds.Yeah, well, this emotional rollercoaster I live on is no picnic for me either.
Like he’s feeling for land mines, he questions slowly, “Do you want to go out with me?”
“Want to? Yes,” I answer truthfully. “Will I? Maybe.”
Connor looks so befuddled I almost laugh, but I don’t, because I’m currently mangled knots of indecision.
I love him. He loves me. Simple enough. So what the hell do I do with all these other feelings I have floating around? It’s not like I can really hide it from him, since he knows what I’m feeling at any given moment.
Wait... Shit. Fuck. Damn. He already knows… and he still asked me out? Maybe he doesn’t know know. Have I been putting out love vibes for the past few weeks or only lust vibes? Fuck, I don’t know which would be better.
While I’m mentally freaking out, Connor gets up from the floor since it appears I’m going to take my sweet time before storming out of the room. He does that head tilt thing, like he’s listening for something no one else can hear, and now I panic that someone is going to barge in and ask what the hell is going on. Knowing me, I’ll blurt something embarrassing and stupid.
Finally, he sighs and walks over to open the door. At first, I’m confused when no one is there, until I look at his face. He’s opening the door for me.
“Take your time to think,” he murmurs, holding out his hand to me. Cautiously, I take it, and he holds my hand to his chest. His heart thumps heavily beneath my fingers. “Protector. Friend. Lover. However you choose to have me in your life, I’ll take it.”
My heart does a solid back handspring when he murmurs the word ‘lover’ in that low, smooth voice, and my knees get all kinds of weak again. It takes way too much effort to keep my eyes—and hands—from roaming.
I’m mad and confused. Jumping Connor will not help me figure out my feelings. It also won’t help with the mixed messages.
