Bite Me

Chapter 18

       Maybe it seemed clingy to text Mason asking if we could hang out the day after we'd done just that for several hours. I didn't care, though. I wanted answers.

I'd spent all of Saturday night awake, wondering how the hell I was supposed to respond to all of this. I was Mason Kane's mate. He was destined to love me forever. I was his perfect match.

A few things fell into place with the discovery. The strange attraction to Mason that I hadn't been able to shake after the first time he kissed me, for example. That pull towards him despite my negative feelings for him, as if I was liking him against my will.

What did it mean for me, though? If in a few days or weeks or months or years I decided I didn't want to be with Mason, did I have to stay with him anyways? Would it even come to that, or would I find that being his mate meant that I never got to that point at all? I knew that, in a way, I had a choice; I didn't have to stay with Mason. I could move on from him without it causing me much more stress than it would your average person. Yet if I had developed such strong feelings for him after being positive I hated him, did I even truly have a choice? If that was the case, was any of this between us real? If Mason and I weren't mates, would we still end up together anyways?

I wanted the answer to be yes, but there were too many holes and gaps for that to be true. If Mason and I weren't a pre-decided pair, I would be straight. That was a pretty big factor.

What we had was way too new to think of it lasting forever, yet now I felt like I had no choice.

      When I stepped into werewolf territory, I felt the familiar extreme sensation of discomfort that used to come from interaction with Mason. If this was where we were going to meet from now on, though, I'd have to get accustomed to it.

     Mason was there waiting for me when I arrived. He gave me a kiss, and I'd be lying to say that I wasn't surprised for a moment. Somehow it still felt foreign that we could just casually kiss now. Not a bad foreign, but it was certainly another thing I'd have to grow used to.

      My eyes widened when Mason pulled open the creaky door of the old shed. Spread across the floor inside was an assortment of cleaning supplies—a trash bag, a broom, some sort of spray, wipes, the whole shebang. "You're kidding," I said dryly.

      The sly grin on Mason's face told me otherwise. "Nope," he said, grabbing the broom from where it had stood leaning against the dust-coated table and tossing to me. "I figured we're going to spend a good bit of time in this place, so it might as well see some maintenance. I was going to do this on my own, but I got lazy and decided I might as well force you to suffer with me."

      I sighed dramatically, earning a chuckle from Mason. Then, when he was off-guard, I used the bristly end of the broom to smack him in the gut. He hunched over and grabbed his stomach with a huff of surprise. "Oops, my bad," I said not-so-innocently. Mason's eyes narrowed in a playful glare as he recovered. "Now pick up that spray bottle, pretty boy—this place is going to sparkle when we're done with it."

     Mason did as I said, picking up the cleaning spray. Instead of using it, though, he took a step towards me. I held my broom up in defense and eyed him warily. Faster than I could process, his hand shot out and grabbed the broom. I tightened my grip around its shaft just as he tugged, using it to pull me into him.

      Then he leaned in, and I relaxed as I realized he was only going to kiss me. I shut my eyes and waited for the feeling of his familiar lips on mine.