Finally Her Turn

Chapter 24: John

“No. I need my own room,” Marissa says as soon as we're inside the doorway of my hotel room and she realizes that I intend for her to share with me.

Those are the first words she’s spoken to me since we left New Horizon, and it’s to drive another dagger through my heart.

Her own room? I mean, I figured that she wouldn’t be comfortable with sharing a bed yet. That’s why I requested a room with two beds. But her own room? How are we supposed to talk and get to know each other from separate rooms?

She won’t even let me touch her. Not even a little bit. Every time I try, she flinches and pulls away. At first, I figured it was because she’s still mad about me springing this pack transfer on her, and she is definitely still upset about that, but I’m beginning to think that there’s more to it.

She was kind of like this with Aly and her friends. She just stood there stiffly as they tried to shower her with affection. She allowed it, but it was not something that she was comfortable with. Even with Tasha the hug looked a little forced and uncomfortable, though she did at least try with her.

Remembering back on that is the only consolation I have to offer myself. She’s not comfortable with affection, not with anyone. It’s not just me. But I mean, come on. Separate rooms? And why is she so uncomfortable with being touched anyway? What am I missing?

But instead of fighting with her or bringing up any of my concerns, I just sigh and give in. I’m already in deep trouble with her for making decisions for her. She’s made it painfully obvious that that’s her issue with me, so I’m not about to add to it by forcing this decision on her too.

“Okay. I’ll speak to Uncle Ben about it. I’m sure he can get you another room on this same floor with us at least,” I tell her, turning to watch how she reacts to that.

“Thank you,” is all she says, but I did see her relax slightly.

And then she turns to glance up at me, but seems to struggle with holding eye contact and looks away again.

“It’s not you,” she assures me, exhaling through her nose and looking conflicted about what else to say until she adds, “I’m just not comfortable sleeping in the same room with anyone. Not even Tasha, though she’s too stubborn to listen to me.”

“I can be pretty stubborn too,” I tease her, forcing a smile despite how much I’m starting to worry.

I’ve heard that when you meet your mate, especially another werewolf, things just kind of naturally fall into place. Your mate completes you, and just her presence is comforting. Almost immediately, the urge to be close and to bond and share with each other sets in. By nightfall of the first day together, it’s not uncommon for the male to have his woman in his lap, handfeeding her their supper.

I’m pretty sure that won’t be the case with us. I’m still struggling to get her to talk to me let alone touch me. It feels like she’s already rejecting our bond because she seems so hell-bent on rejecting all the opportunities we’ve had to do the actual work of bonding, and I have no idea what to even do about it.

But the really crazy thing is that despite all that, she agreed on the spot to leave her pack and follow me to mine. That has to mean something, right? But then she said the part about me being the biggest reason why she almost didn’t agree. If that’s true, then why is she here? What reason made her agree?

“I have noticed that,” she says, but there was such a pause between what I said and when she speaks that it startles me, and I've almost forgotten what I said last that she's responding to.

I guess I was just standing there staring at nothing, worrying like my mother does. What I need to be doing is talking to Uncle Ben about the new room, so I whip out my trusty mind-link with my beloved great-uncle, dialing up the cheerfulness so I won’t have to endure more of his gloating.

I’ll be down momentarily to give her the key to her room. It’s adjoined to yours, and accessible through the door next to your bureau, as long as both sides are unlocked, he explains, obviously already expecting and prepared for my request for another room.

How is it that he seems to know my mate and anticipate her needs so much better than I do? But that’s not something I bother bringing up with him. Instead, I just thank him and tell him to take his time.

“Uncle Ben said he’ll come and give you a key soon. Apparently, he already rented the room next to mine for you, right there through that door,” I point at the door that he described.

“Uh,” she says, looking at the door with a worried expression on her face, “So, here’s the thing. No matter what you hear tonight, don’t go in there. I promise you I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you can’t say something like that and expect me to just nod and agree. That’s concerning as hell, Marissa. What is going to happen tonight that I’m just supposed to ignore?”

“Nothing will happen. That’s what I’m saying.”

“No, you said that –,” I start to say, stopping mid-sentence when I see how anxious she is now.

She’s biting her thumbnail, and I think she might even be shaking a little. This is obviously going to require a softer touch.

“Hey, why don’t we sit on the bed while we wait?" I ask her more gently. "That way you don’t have to stand there holding your suitcase, and we can relax a little.”

“Okay,” she agrees, which honestly surprises me.

I thought I’d have to fight her about that too. But no, she sets her suitcase down over by the door and comes with me to sit at the end of the bed that I’d intended to be hers. She sits there stiffly, sighing heavily, and then starts rolling her neck and shoulders to relieve some of the tension.

“Here, why don’t you let me help you with that?” I offer, holding my hands up to demonstrate that I mean to give her a massage. “I promise I won’t get carried away with it or try to push any boundaries. I just want to help you relax a little and get more comfortable.”

She reflexively scoots away a few more inches and I can tell that she kind of wants to turn me down. But instead of refusing me outright, she studies my hands intently for a few moments before finally giving me a hesitant nod. She’s far more tense now than when I first offered, but she doesn’t scoot any further away as I move myself close enough to reach her.

“Turn just a little bit,” I instruct her, spinning my finger in a partial circle to show how I want her to move.

She bends one leg at the knee and tucks that foot up under her other leg so that she can turn herself sideways and give me better access to her shoulders. I’m suddenly aware of how nervous I am now, but I take a deep breath and cautiously bring my hands up to rest them on her shoulders for a moment to see how she reacts. She tenses but doesn’t try to move away again, so I start moving my thumbs and fingers in a way that I hope is soothing for her.

Serena has told me before that I have magic hands when I’ve done this for her, but I’ve always wondered if it’s actually true, or if that’s just something she tells me to stroke my ego and encourage me to keep being affectionate with her. But I have a feeling that whatever review Marissa might come up with will be the blunt truth, like it or not.

I can't help laughing through my nose as I remember what Aly said about her during that appeal. Her blunt honesty is how she knows she can trust her. The whole time I was listening to that exchange, I couldn’t help thinking about how refreshing that would be to have in my life. And now here she is.

“What?” Marissa asks, tensing again. She obviously heard and maybe even felt me laugh at my own thoughts.

“Oh, nothing," I answer at first, but immediately realize that I should explain so she knows what amused me. "At least nothing from now. I was just remembering the day we met, when Elder Vivian called on you to give your opinion about Aly’s mates, and then Aly said how much she appreciated your honesty because it means you’re trustworthy.”

“Okay. Why?”

She doesn’t seem to find that as amusing or endearing as I do, but of course she doesn’t. I’m sure that was a humiliating moment for her.

“I suppose that does seem random since you’re not in my head,” I admit, laughing aloud this time. “I was wondering how I’m doing here, and then I had a thought about how honest you’d be if I asked. Brutal, I’m betting. I’m sure I’m not as talented as I think I am.”

“You’re doing fine, though I’m not sure how much it’s helping. It doesn’t make this feel less awkward.”

Yep, there’s the honesty. Not that I wasn’t already aware of the awkwardness. I’m doing everything in my power to make it go away, but she’s right that it doesn’t seem to be helping.

“Well, how about let’s talk about what you said about tonight,” I decide to just get back to the point that I’m not going to be able to forget until she explains it. “What am I going to overhear that I’m just supposed to ignore?”

“Probably nothing.”

“Probably nothing, but maybe …” I probe, letting my question linger in hopes that she’ll finish my sentence.

“Nightmares, okay?” she answers, raising her voice as she pulls away from me and lurches to her feet, spinning around to face me. “Not that it’s your business, but I’ve been having nightmares every night, and Tasha wouldn’t listen to me and just leave me alone. She always insisted on coming to wake me up, but you really shouldn’t do that. Just leave me be.”

Well, that’s concerning, and what she’s demanding is impossible for me to promise. If I hear her struggling or screaming, of course I’m going in there.

“Every night? That sounds exhausting. Is there anything I can do?” I ask, deciding to take the supportive instead of the argumentative approach with her this time.

She’s a fighter, that much I can already tell, and I’m quickly learning that fighting back is too fruitless and counterproductive to be worth it.

“Yeah, stop crawling up my ass about every little thing, and stop trying to control me and make all my decisions for me. I’ve had about enough of all that, and I won’t put up with it anymore or it defeats the whole purpose.”

Well, she’s obviously back to angry, but I’m confused about what she’s even talking about. When have I been "crawling up her ass" or trying to control her? I mean, yeah, I made a giant mistake with the surprise transfer, and I know I still need to make that up to her somehow, but this feels like more than that. And what does she mean that “it defeats the whole purpose” – what defeats the purpose of what?

“Okay … I don’t even know how to answer that because I’m a bit lost,” I tell her. “All I can really say is I’m still so incredibly sorry about surprising you with a transfer to my pack. I know that’s a huge deal, and I can’t just apologize and expect it to be all better. I promise you that I don’t make a habit of doing things like that, and you can make your own decisions. But the rest of what you just said you’re going to have to explain to me because I’m not following.”

There’s a knock at the door, which I try to ignore as I stare her down waiting for her response. She huffs in irritation and goes to answer the door herself, letting Uncle Ben in.

“Just who I wanted to see,” he greets her with a cheerful smile. “I have a set of room keys for you, so if you would please grab your things and follow me, I’ll show you what to do with them.”

I step over to reach for her suitcase, but the glare she gives me changes my mind about that. I guess she wants to carry her own stuff, and I’m happy to allow her that. I don’t want to accidentally try to control her with my chivalrous manners or anything.

Maybe it’s a dangerous thing for me to do, but I decide to follow them and help her settle into her room, even though I know I’m risking upsetting her again. She’s still my mate, even if I can’t keep up with her moods to save my life. Or my relationship.