The Sensible One (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Twenty Seven

[Lowell's POV] 

Reed didn't answer when I called him. He had called me four times, either while my phone was off or while it was dying. It was on silent and the vibration was gentler when it was losing battery. 

Assuming he was busy I got my things from the hostel and checked out, I needed to leave as fast as I could, I was already spending too much time there and running out of scent diffuser. At this point I just needed to grab Maxwell and run but I still needed to collect the rest of my money from Reed. 

I called again in the middle of the day but he didn't pick up, while I was out doing some hurried shopping before I went back to Max's place with my shit.

I saw his eyes on my possessions as they suddenly appeared in his living room when he returned from work, stepping into the living room carefully, seeing me there and looking away, faintly flushed.

I thought he'd bring it up, maybe suspect me of trying to leach off of him, say it wasn't the natural order of things or something toffy like that.

He appeared a little on edge as he moved past me though, hurrying upstairs to get dressed. I felt the heat coming off of him just through the closeness. The way he scratched his neck and brushed his forehead. He was struggling with all his might to appear normal.

"Tonight's the night." I told myself.

I needed to tell him tonight.

I headed to the kitchen and started making dinner, not because I was any type of chef but because this was what I would have done if I had a female mate. Cook her up some dinner, soften her up, then start looking like a creep going on about werewolves, shift and scare her and let her get used to me.

A male mate was a curveball but Max watched me with a rather sweet expression from the entrance to the kitchen once or twice and kept that strange expression on his face as he moved up and down the stairs. 

Every time he appeared like a little mouse skirting the corner warily I wanted to reach out and do something terrible to him against the edge of the kitchen surface, my mind wasn't as PC as his, I wondered if something like that might shock him more than me being a wolf. I was distracted as I cooked.

When I was plating and serving up for us he tried to nervously direct us toward the kitchen table but I insisted on the living room.

The kitchen was too small to transform in.

I only realised my shit was gone when I was sitting at the table, blinked as I looked around me.

He was more flushed than ever, sitting as far away from me as he could, looking himself smaller than normal.

"Where's my backpack and shit?" I asked.

He glanced at me. "I had to move them..." He grumbled, fidgeting with the rim of the flat bowl in which I'd served up the only thing I knew how to make well, dish my grandmother from my mothers side used to make with spaghetti, sauce and chicken breast. "It's... It's up in the guest bedroom, I can't have things just sitting around in the living room."

I stared at him, he avoided looking at me, carefully supplying a coaster for my glass of water.

He put my shit upstairs, and was shy about it... A slow mocking grin formed on my face, I was unable to hold it back. My nervous little mate wanted me to stay... I could do without him putting it in the guest bedroom but Max was probably too proper to straight up put my crap in his room. Now that was asking for me to fuck him where he was sitting.