Mean Streak (BoyxBoy Werewolf Story)

Chapter 57: Don't Let Go (Love)

Beck

The bill always comes.

Have you ever gone to the supermarket and found a promoter giving out free samples of food in the form of snacks?

When I was a child, I loved going to the supermarket with my mom not only to persuade her to buy what I wanted or needed, but whenever I found people giving away free stuff they'd love to feed me as a child.

More often than not, the food was delicious and I wanted mom to buy whatever it was for us, for me. When you're a child, you don't stop to consider who's footing the bill for these types of professionals to stand in the middle of the market smiling and offering people free samples.

It's not until much later that I learned that industries did that so that consumers would taste their products and buy it. It's smart and direct to consumer marketing. And very efficient.

When my mom moved us to Ruckerford Falls, I knew our room and board weren't going to be free. Nothing ever is. If she doesn't pay the bill, someone else would have to and I wouldn't hold my breath on my father coming up with any money for us, though he obviously should.

The point I'm trying to make here is nothing ever comes for free. If not you, someone else is paying for it. But the bill always comes. Like death and taxes.

Since Saturday, I have been caring for my second mate as he's recuperating from appendicitis. I was so scared to learn his life was in danger that I couldn't step away from his side for long.

I'm deathly afraid for his life. I know the surgery went well and now he's recuperating with full wolf healing, but my brain is still in 'mate danger' mode. I can't seem to want to be apart from Quentin.

I didn't ask to be mated to two boys, but the point is moot now. He's my mate too, whether I want it or not. And I never felt pain as much as I did when his appendix burst last Friday.

He and I have been inseparable for a few days now and it's going well so far.

Except for my other mate, of course.

Jude has been feeling the separation as if a limb had been severed from his body.

I wish I was exaggerating for effect, but he's been pouty, bratty, moody and incredibly sad.

I feel everything he feels. It breaks my heart to leave him this way, but I can't turn away from Quentin right now. He needs me.

After we spent Wednesday morning helping Luna with the cooking, Quentin and I sat on the couch in the living room for a minute to rest before lunch.

It was good fun to watch my mate helping his mother to prepare Thanksgiving dinner. I was yet to see the softer side of Quentin Atwood and I loved it.

"You've been quite busy this morning. Are you feeling alright?" - I checked in with him, worriedly.

"I'm great. The surgery stitches are itching, but other than that..." - He replied, lowering the waistband of his pants to scratch it. I grabbed his hand to stop him from scratching that area and risk it getting worse.

Quentin did not appreciate my help and forced both our hands towards the area in an arm wrestle neither of us were prepared to lose.

"Let go of your hand. You're not scratching that itch!" - I yelled at him, still keeping his hand from going down forcibly.

"You let go of my hand! It's itching like crazy! I need to scratch it!" - He shouted at me, as if I was acting like a deranged person by not wanting him to hurt himself.