“Pass.”
For the first time in this situation, I’m feeling pretty peeved. Straightening my shoulders and looking down at the cards, I exhale my frustration with a puff. “You’re sleeping on the couch then,” I inform him.
His chin dips as his brows raise. “Really? You’re playing that card already? Just ten hours in?”
“I’m not sharing a bed with someone who refuses to let me get to know him.”
“So is there not a spare bedroom?”
“My grandparents’ room is off the garage, but there’s no bed, and it’s full of a bunch of crap I haven’t gone through yet.”
He lets out a sigh, resting his head back on the cushions, offering no response.
I think for a moment, not wanting to get in a fight on our wedding night but still wanting him to see reason. “Look, I know we’re doing this whole thing mainly for me, and you were kind enough to volunteer. But that doesn’t mean this whole arrangement isn’t hard for me, that I’m just delighted and I should just sit down, shut up, and be thankful. Forgive me if I’d like to know a bit about who I’m living under the same roof with for the next few years.” I look back down at the cards spilling from one hand to the other, and I think back to whenIdidn’t want to visit a part of my past.
Being that Wolf and I have basically signed our lives over to each other and now share a living space, I feel like we’re on a different scale here, that this logic shouldn’t necessarily apply. But then his brother’s words come to mind: be patient with him. And besides, it’s like he said. We’ve got time.
“You know what, it’s fine,” I decide reluctantly, gathering the cards in one hand and setting them down on the coffee table with a light tap. “Think I’ll go to bed,” I say, standing. I take only a moment to gauge the look in Wolf’s eyes before they flit from my face down to the carpet. I think maybe I see a flash of disappointment but immediately decide I imagined it before I turn and head for the stairs.
After brushing my teeth, I pull back the covers on my bed. The lights in the living room flick off, and Wolf is padding around downstairs, going to each door. I hear a jolt or click when he locks each one, followed by the click of the kitchen lights . He’s shutting everything down and securing the house. A feeling of security clicks inside of me, like a safety harness has been fastened around me before covering me with a blanket. I’ve beenspending the nights in this house alone for so long I forgot how it feels not having to sleep with one eye open.
I continue to stand by the edge of the bed, waiting as Wolf’s footsteps trudge up the steps. When he arrives on the landing, I notice he’s holding the deck of cards together with his thick fingers down at his side.
I wait a moment for him to speak and when he doesn’t, I finally ask “What?”
He fidgets with the card deck, and his hand absently reaches up toward his head to grab the bill of the ball cap that’s not there. Letting his hand drop, he takes a frustrated breath. “It’s interesting how someone like me who grew up with a big family and went to the public high school doesn’t care to talk a lot or get to know a lot of people and you, who grew up off the beaten path with just your grandparents, seems to like that sort of thing.”
“Well, first of all, you’d be surprised,” I offer. “I might be okay here in Ironvale, but when I went to college, I wasn’t as outgoing.” That had been such a surprising outcome for me after being so sheltered. “I mostly holed up in my dorm and studied.” I lace my hands in front of me before looking down at my lap. “Plus, my grandparents did everything they could to make me feel safe, and one thing that seemed to help was being joyful. Like all the time. They were chatty and always smiling at me, and they made me laugh every chance they got…” I trail off, feeling the warmth spreading across my face followed by the contradicting sting at the bridge of my nose. God, I miss them. “And who could foresee that I’d lose them so soon and have no one left to bond with.”
He pulls in a quiet breath before dropping his eyes downward. He’s probably not used to processing heavy things—not with so much family around to keep things upbeat.
“Plus I watch a lot of movies,” I add on haphazardly, hoping to divert from the emotion of the moment.
He gives a faint, thoughtful smile along with a nod. “Maybe I should try that.”
“I could put on a movie,” I offer, waving at the small but adequate flat screen that rests on top of the dresser.
He holds up the deck. “I thought we could play a hand instead.”
I shake my head. “Wolf, you don’t have to. Really.” I sigh, trying to assure him as I turn down the bed covers.
“But you should be able to trust the person you’re sharing a house with,” he counters, raising his chin up to show me the sincerity in his eyes. “And I’m just saying one hand. I’ll try the Gin Rummy you played with your grandma. If you win, I’ll answer one question.”
“And what ifyouwin?” I turn my head toward him.
“Then I can sleep in the bed.” He nods where I’m about to settle in. “I’m pretty sure that couch is going to cut me off at the knees.” He looks away, rubbing at the back of his neck.
Little does he know I don’t hate the idea of him winning. I don’t think I knew it myself until now. “Okay,” I agree and slide under the covers and settle in.
Turns out, Wolf has never played before, and I give him a crash course on the rules after he sits on the edge of the bed, the cards a mess on the comforter between us.
As predicted, I’m the first to get rid of my hand, but I decide to steer clear of his parents. “Who’s your favorite brother?” I let out a satisfied sigh, wrapping my hands around my knee as he gathers up all the cards.
“Well that’s hardly a fair question. I hate them all equally.”
My head drops back in a laugh that I didn’t expect to overtake me, and when I manage to stop, I find Wolf smiling. It’s just a small hint of one, pulling at his lips like he can’t help it. Kind of like the one he tried to fight in the truck this morning on the wayto the courthouse. This one also holds surprise, like he’s pleased with himself for making me laugh.
“All right,” he clears his throat as I start to sober. “Seriously, I’d have to say Forest.”
