Twenty-Six

With a dramatic sigh, I slid under the blankets and lowered myself to my back on the mattress. 

There was a good foot of space between Jesse and me something I didn't particularly like but did feel was necessary. 

I wasn't going to be the kidnapped, mail-ordered, Stockholm-Syndromed bride, after all. 

"Close your eyes," Jesse instructed. I opened my mouth to argue. 

"Tea, close your mouth and shut your eyes. You know I'm not going to grab your tits or anything." Did I know that? Yeah, I knew that. 

He'd been a perfect gentleman, despite his body's obvious reaction to me. My eyes closed. 

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?" he asked. 

"Working in a hospital. Living next door to my mom. Buying her the shoes she stares at in the store window and taking her out to eat; shit she never could afford when I was a kid because kids are so expensive," I answered automatically. 

"What else?" he asked. I opened my eyes, shooting him a frown. 

"What do you mean, what else?" 

"What else do you see yourself doing in ten years? Having a kid of your own? Learning to paint? Going back to school for your master's degree? You're a planner; you must have some idea of your future other than financial stability." I shot him an irritated glare. "This is what you call relaxing?" 

"Yep." "You're obnoxious." I turned my head back to the ceiling, shutting my eyes again. And though I knew I didn't have to, I decided to play Jesse's little game. What did I want out of life, other than not having to worry about money?

 My mind went back to the past month. To the way it had felt when I sat on the couch, studying, with Wolf Jesse snuggled up against my feet. 

For no reason that made logical sense, it was so much more enjoyable than studying alone. Everything had been more enjoyable with Jesse the Wolf than when I was alone. 

"I think I'd like to get married, at some point," I finally said. 

"Or maybe just find a partner to share my life with. Someone to talk to when I get home from work, and text when something funny happens." "And snuggle at night?" I shot Jesse another glare. 

"I know what you're doing. You want me to see that having a mate is a blessing, just like your mom was trying to tell me. I understand that it's special and that at some point I'll probably be glad that your wolf picked me, but—" I cut myself off when his hand landed on my arm. 

"That's not what I'm doing, Tea." I glared, waiting for him to clarify. 

"I'm not trying to manipulate you. I asked because I wanted to know your answer, not because I want you to think I am the answer." He paused. 

"Though on second thought, I could be." I smacked him on the chest with the back of my hand, and he chuckled. 

"I was kidding." "Sure you were." Drawing my hand back, I placed it on my abdomen with the other one. 

"We could be good together, you know. I've seen the way you look at me, and you know how I look at you. We could—" 

"We've known each other for like three days, Jesse. I get that you watched me through your wolf for a couple of months, but I'm not jumping into a relationship with someone I just met regardless of any werewolf magic." I slid out of the bed. 

"I need to catch up on my homework." Jesse leaned across the bed and caught my wrist in a light grip.

 "That's fair. You need time. I get that. But I'd like to revisit this conversation, at some point." 

"When the semester ends, you can bring it back up. There's a decent chance I'll shoot it down again, but you can try. Until then, please just leave it alone." 

I headed to the doorway without his confirmation, waiting for him to get ready to go downstairs. 

He stepped into the bathroom, remaining where I could see bits of him as he moved, and came back out a few minutes later wearing a t-shirt along with his shorts. 

We walked down the stairs together, everything made a bit less comfortable by the conversation we'd just had.

 "You want coffee?" Jesse asked as I sat down at the kitchen table. 

"Sure." I opened my laptop, massaging my temples as the screen lit up. Damn, I wished I had a Red Bull to drink. Jesse turned on the music while he started the coffee, then grabbed two dozen eggs and set them on the counter. The eggs were followed by a pack of bacon and some bread—for toast, I assumed. 

"I don't usually eat breakfast," I reminded Jesse. My stomach growled as he shot me a warning look. 

"Fine," I muttered, looking back at my computer screen and pulling up the list of shit I still needed to do. "Consider me your werewolf dietician and personal chef," Jesse said, turning back to the stove. 

"Most girls could only dream of having their were-chef, but you're lucky enough to have me." I snorted. "Most girls would run screaming from a were-chef." 

"Haven't you heard of paranormal romance books? If girls like sparkly vampires, you'd better believe they like muscular werewolves cooking them eggs." He didn't turn around to see the grin tugging my lips upward. 

"Who said you were muscular?" I countered.

"I do own a mirror, Teapot. Doesn't take much more than a mirror and a pair of eyes to deduce that when you've got this to work with." He gestured to his body from the side.

 "I don't know why men think it's attractive to talk about their muscles. They're there." I gestured to his body like he had. 

"You know it, I know it." 

"You asked." "I was teasing you, Kettle." I rolled my eyes, opening the document I had set up for a particular assignment on my computer. 

Two could play the nickname game. If he wanted to call me Teapot, you'd better believe I'd be calling him Kettle. 

"It seems like every time I ask an attractive guy what he likes to do, do you know what he says?" I asked, mostly ranting to myself at that point. 

"Go to the gym. They think that's an interesting hobby, but what girl wants to date someone whose idea of a good time is working out?" 

"A girl whose idea of a good time is working out?" Jesse suggested. It took a minute to realize he was answering my rhetorical question... And in an interesting way. 

"No one's idea of a good time is working out."

 "Sure it is. There are plenty of people who enjoy the way they feel when they get their heart rate up." He continued cooking eggs, arguing with me casually, in a way that I hated to admit I loved. 

"If this is where you tell me your favorite thing to do is work out, I'm moving." He shot me a grin over his shoulder. 

"I don't personally work out. I'd rather read a book." 

"Ditto." I tried to focus on my assignment, but now that Jesse had gotten me ranting, I had a million things to say. 

"Why do guys think it's sexy to say they love working out, though? Is it supposed to make us think of sex or something? Because when a guy tells me his favorite hobby is the gym, I immediately think he's a few brain cells short of intelligent." Jesse laughed. 

The sound was enough to nearly make me smile. 

"I'm sure they say that to you because it sounds more manly than admitting they play video games in all their spare time or telling you they're really into watching medical dramas. Exercise seems like a safe answer. And it probably works with a decent number of girls, if they keep using it." I scoffed. 

"Video games and TV bingeing are way more interesting." 

"To you," he pointed out. 

"Not everyone is you." 

"Thanks, Captain Obvious." 

"You're welcome, Miss Old Insult." 

"Old insult? Captain Obvious is a classic," I protested. 

"It's not." "Then what's the new version of it?" Jesse shrugged. 

"No idea. I never claimed to be hip—I just said it's outdated." 

"Well that's not exactly helpful, is it?" I gave him an exasperated look. 

"I never claimed to be helpful." He walked over with my mug of coffee and a slight grin. 

"You say that, as you serve me coffee and make me eggs." I took the mug, curling my fingers around the warm glass. 

"Technically I'm doing that for me. If I don't feed you, you're going to keep bullying me." His widening grin told me he was teasing. 

"And if I don't feed you then eventually you'll starve to death because of your terrible eating habits. Assuming you starve to death, I'd be out a mate, which would mean a life of loneliness." 

"Wow. Thanks for pointing that out." I nodded, sipping the coffee in my mug. I'd started to like the taste of it something I hadn't expected could happen. 

"I'll remind myself of that next time you try to cuddle with me." He nodded. 

"Good call." Twenty minutes of egg-cracking and stirring later, he set a popcorn bowl full of scrambled eggs in front of me. Bacon and toast were tucked up against the sides of the bowl, framing the assload of eggs. 

"This is what I've come to?" I asked in despair, as my stomach growled loudly. 

"Yup. You can thank me for that, too." He sat beside me with his bowl of eggs. Though it was large, it was probably a third of the size of mine. 

"Dig in, Teapot."