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The weekends were all blocked out for the townhouse, and although it wasn’t exactly what we’d discussed, I could see the reasoning behind it even without discussing it. We had more privacy at his place, as well as access to a kitchen, and showers, and laundry facilities.
Honestly, it would’ve made a lot more sense for us to just permanently move into the townhouse, but I just didn’t feel ready to agree to that level of commitment yet. By keeping my dorm room and spending two or three days a week there, I would give myself time to warm up to the idea of moving and adjust to all of the recent changes.
So, the dorm was a necessary evil for the time being.
Each individual day had time blocked for work and studying, as well as meals, and driving on days we needed to drive. There would be a lot of that, but I hoped that within a few months, I’d feel more confident about moving in with him completely.
And maybe next semester, I could try to do what Teagan always did and book all of my classes back-to-back on two or three days a week.
That would mean less driving… and more time with Ford.
Both of which sounded pretty damn good to me.
At the end of the day, there was an hour on the schedule that was just labeled “snuggling”. It seemed like too cute of a word for a big, buff guy like Ford, but he was plenty secure enough in his masculinity to use it. And I liked that there was no obligation attached to it; it was our time to do as much or as little as we wanted together.
“It looks perfect,” I admitted, still scanning the individual boxes. He’d included everything from getting ready to cooking breakfast on the days we were home, which only confirmed my belief that I’d found the perfect man.
Or that he’d found me, I guess. In a sandwich shop, of all places.
I probably owed Teagan a thank you for that.
“Good.” Ford shut the computer, setting it down on the couch. “I’ll print it out tomorrow. Let’s go get ready for bed.”
Something about the words made my body warm. They sounded so… comfortable. Intimate. I’d done a decent amount of shit with guys before, but I’d never gotten ready for bed with one.
The few times I slept the whole night at Reed’s house, there was no “getting ready for bed” together. He was always snoring by the time I squeezed into his bed with him, and I spent the night either squished against the wall or trying hard not to fall off the small dorm room bed.
I suddenly felt a little bitter that I’d wasted so much time with him.
But then again, if I’d been with someone who actually treated me right when I’d met Ford, things between us would’ve been much different.
And Ford’s wolf probably would’ve killed whoever I was in love with… so yeah, it was better that I’d been with Reed. Though I guess the most ideal situation would’ve been me being single when we met.
Anyway, that didn’t matter.
What mattered was that I was with Ford now, and that he respected me.
We wentthrough our night-time routines together. Ford hadn’t really had much of a chance to follow his while he was living in my dorm room for the past week and a half, but I kept peeking over at him while I washed my face and threw on some moisturizer.
I hadn’t seen a guy take care of his skin like that before, with a scrub, serum, and moisturizer similar to what I used. Most of what he used was either the same brand or the exact same products I’d been using since I was in high school.
It was weird that we shared the same taste in that sort of thing, but I guess it could’ve just been a coincidence.
Or… well, it could’ve been the whole mates thing.
It was hard to really know with that.
I pulled on my pajama shorts and top while he used the bathroom, and luckily my wolf didn’t flip out the moment he was out of sight. She’d been silent throughout most of the day, and I wasn’t sure whether to be glad or worried about that.
On one hand, I was glad she was letting me live in peace.
On the other hand, I was forever going to be worried that she’d just surge forward and take control again like she had in the shower.
My curiosity arose as I slipped between the sheets on Ford’s bed. We’d gotten everything wet earlier, but it all seemed dry now. The sheets were so damn soft they felt like silk on my mostly-bare legs, and I legitimately groaned when I dragged the heavy blanket over me. It was fairly cold in the house, and the smooth weight felt like heaven.
My mind drifted back to my wolf after I got comfortable on the side of the bed closest to the window. When Ford stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the light off as he headed toward the closet, I asked, “Is there really no way to communicate with our wolves?”
“There’s not. The Main Alphas have had people researching it and working with witches for nearly a century, but no one has figured out a way to alter the spell that made us what we are enough to allow us to communicate with our wolves. Part of the punishment was not being able to control the beasts inside us,” he explained.
