She Will Be Mine (New Horizon Book 2)

Chapter 16: The Morning

Ronnie

One minute I was sitting next to Jason on his bed, holding his hand and watching a movie, and the next I’m waking up completely disoriented. It’s light out now instead of dark, and it takes me a minute to realize that I’m still in his room, on his bed, but he’s nowhere to be found. I’m cocooned in a shirt that’s big enough to belong to a giant, but it’s soft and comfortable and smells like him, so I’m guessing it’s his.

My mind jumps back to the part where he’s nowhere to be found. The bed is still made, other than the parts where I’ve rumpled it by sleeping on top of the covers. The television is off, but the lamp near me is still on. It’s so strange, and not at all what I expected to wake up to.

Not that I expected to wake up here at all. But to be fair, I didn’t expect to come here either. I didn’t expect to enjoy shopping with him as much as I did, or to like touching him. Pretty much my entire day yesterday was a massive surprise that I enjoyed immensely.

But what I’m not enjoying is how the soda I drank with my pizza last night is coming back to haunt me. I need a bathroom. I know where one is because he pointed it out to me last night, but I’m nervous.

What if whatever I find in there completely destroys my perception of him? And what if I can’t even bring myself to use it? I’m very particular about bathroom cleanliness. I can’t even use public restrooms, and I prefer if I have personally cleaned off a toilet seat and sink before I use them.

That was certainly a challenge when I lived in the dorms and had to share a bathroom with the other girls on my floor, but my solution was to carry around my own wipes and disinfectants. I don’t have that option available to me here.

With a deep breath, resolving myself to accept the fate that awaits me, knowing that whatever I’m about to be exposed to is likely preferable to a bladder infection, I carefully unwind myself from my comfy little cocoon and get out of the bed. It turns out that Jason hasn’t completely disappeared after all. He’s stretched out on the floor under the table, still asleep, and not snoring even a little bit.

That’s a pleasant surprise. The not snoring bit anyway. The part about sleeping under a table I feel kind of bad about.

The surprises keep coming once I step into the bathroom. Though his room seems organized and well cared for, I expected to find the usual disaster of personal hygiene and hair care products strewn all over the bathroom, and the various other messes that are typical of men. Pee on the toilet. Dirty clothes on the floor. Random used and discarded towels here and there.

Instead, I find a clean and well-organized bathroom. The towels are fresh and folded, the surfaces appear clean, and there’s only a comb, toothbrush, and one small jar of some sort of lotion or ointment, all of which is carefully placed on a shelf above the bathroom counter.

Color me impressed, not to mention relieved. I’d still prefer to be able to wipe things down before I use them, but I can tolerate this. It’s about the same as when I stayed in Aly’s guest room and had my own bathroom. I could tell things were recently cleaned, and I was able to get out of my head enough to enjoy it. It helped that there was a big soaking tub there for me to relax in, but I can make do with a small but clean bathroom that’s hopefully only been used by Jason recently.

He’s awake by the time I finish in the bathroom and is on his feet when I make my way back into his bedroom. It’s immediately awkward, at least for me. I feel like there’s a lot I should say to him, maybe even apologize for him having to sleep on the floor, or thank him for his hospitality, or I don’t even know. What do you say to a guy in a situation like this?

“Morning,” he greets me with a smile. I suppose that is a good place to start.

It looks like he’s returning his pillow to the bed and fixing the bedspread. Considering that making the bed is the first thing I do every morning, it’s strangely comforting that he seems to share my priorities. I do wish I’d had a chance to fix the bed before I ran to the bathroom, though.

“Morning,” I return shyly, still wondering what to do. Maybe sit in the chair by the table and stay out of his way? Or should I help him?

“The rest of your pizza is in the fridge if you’re hungry,” he tells me. “There’s no microwave, though, so I hope cold is okay.”

Cold is definitely not okay. I can’t handle the rubbery texture of it.

“I’m fine,” I say instead of admitting that to him. I can wait to eat until I get home.

“Or I could take you to breakfast somewhere so we can have something hot and fresh,” he offers next.

I haven’t showered, and I’m still in yesterday’s clothes. The clothes I slept in. No way am I comfortable with going into public. Honestly, I’m not even comfortable being here with him like this, but I don’t want it to seem like I’m overly eager to leave.

“Or a drive-through, so we don’t have to go in,” he says. Is he reading my mind? “Anything you want. Just tell me.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

I just really want to go home and get cleaned up. I’ll worry about food after a shower.

“Alright, fair enough. Just give me a few minutes in the bathroom, and then I’ll take you home.”

Yes, perfect. There we go. Thank goodness he didn’t make me try to say it. I know it would come out wrong and probably hurt his feelings.

“Okay, sounds good,” I say instead.

And then I panic when I realize I haven’t even looked at the time yet. My mom needs to leave for work this morning, and I’m supposed to stay with the girls.

“Wait, what time is it?” I ask just as he’s slipping into the bathroom.

“Your phone is on the nightstand by where you were sleeping,” he calls out through the closed door. “But if you’re worried about babysitting, I texted your mom last night to tell her you fell asleep, and she said she had the girls taken care of for this morning so you could go ahead and sleep in.”

That’s both comforting and disturbing in ways I haven’t even figured out yet. But I shake it off, making my way over to the nightstand to pick up my phone. He charged it and everything. I’m not sure if that’s sweet or just weird. Is that like a modern-day chivalry thing? Who knows.

The time says my mom left for work two hours ago, so I guess it’s good that Jason gave her a heads up. I still don’t know how to feel about this whole situation, though. There are a lot of things I could be annoyed about if I allow myself to be, but I think Jason’s heart was in the right place. He was trying to be sweet. Things that bother me usually don’t bother other people, so how could he have known that he was doing anything wrong?

I notice the two shirts he draped over the back of that chair and recognize the one that I woke up wrapped in. Almost before I realize it, my body has carried me over to it and I find myself stroking the soft material. It’s a soothing tactile experience for me.

“I was hoping those would be a suitable substitute for a blanket,” he says as he’s coming out of the bathroom, startling me. “I know you said that certain textures bother you, but I was hoping those would be okay.”

I have to give him credit. He obviously did his best to make me comfortable where he could, and that was very thoughtful of him.

“Yeah, it’s good,” I tell him. “I like how soft it is.”

I want to tell him more. I want to tell him that I was just thinking about trying to find something like it in my size because I think it’s just soft enough and just heavy enough that it would be a good thing to have on hand for when I get anxious and restless. The material of his shirt is even better than the shirt that I have at home to use as a comfort object when I need it.

But I’m not comfortable with him this morning like I was yesterday. In fact, I’m not comfortable with myself this morning. I’m not comfortable at all, and I have to be careful with my words or they’re going to come out all stuttered and awkward again. I have to keep what I say short and to the point right now.

“Good, I’m glad,” he says from right beside me. I think he’s smiling at me again, but I can’t look at him.

He’s so close. Too close. I can’t take it right now. So, I look around for something to busy myself with, and see our stacks of new books sitting where we left them on the bureau. Perfect.

I step away from him so I can go over and grab a couple of them to take home with me. He shouldn’t take it personally if I leave him for books, right?

-

-

Jason

Ronnie has been on edge all morning, practically jumping at her own shadow. Something is bothering her, but she won’t tell me what, so I figure the best solution is just to get her home. I don’t want to let her go, but I don’t want to keep her with me when it’s obviously making her so uncomfortable.

Maybe letting her stay the night wasn’t the best idea. She got sleep, but we seem to have taken a few steps back and erased all the progress we made yesterday. She’s back to being just as anxious and unsettled around me as she was when I first picked her up.

I leave my hand available to her for most of the drive back to her place, but she doesn’t reach for it. She doesn’t say much either, so now I’m left wondering if she’s upset about staying the night with me.

Finn’s as worried as I am, and I can feel him pacing around in there. I’m going to have to find someplace to let him out before my shift at Reggie’s. When he gets like this, it’s too risky to let him be around humans. Maybe Ronnie’s friend Clarice can help me with that. She’s part-werewolf and has a wolf of her own that she must let out to run somehow.

Once I’m parked just beyond Ronnie’s driveway, not able to actually turn into the driveway because there’s another car parked in the way currently, I turn my body so I can face her and watch her reaction, searching for any sign that might tell me how badly I’ve screwed up.

“I had a really good time with you, Ronnie,” I tell her, draping my arm over the console between us so my hand ends up well within her reach should she decide she wants it.

“Yeah, me too,” she says, still not looking at me. She hasn’t looked at me even once all morning, as much as I’ve tried to catch her eye whenever I can.

“Let me know if you want to get out of the house again at any point. As long as I’m not at Reggie’s, my schedule is wide open and I’m down for just about anything.”

“Okay, thanks,” she says hurriedly, already grabbing for the door handle so she can get out.

“Alright well, call or text me whenever. I always look forward to hearing from you,” I add, watching helplessly as she scrambles to get out of my car, Finn whimpering at the sight of her in such a rush to get away from us. “Bye, Ronnie.”

“Bye,” she calls out just before she shuts the door and hurries across the lawn to the house.

I wait until I see her go in and the door closes behind her before I drive off, mixed emotions surging through me. Mostly I’m left once again wondering what in the heck I even did wrong.

-

-

Ronnie

I know it’s not a good sign that there’s a strange car in the driveway when Jason brings me back, but it also makes sense. It probably belongs to the babysitter. I can’t help the effect that seeing it has on me, though.

I’m already struggling to relax despite the fact that I feel so dirty and unwashed, and Jason obviously wants me to hold his hand again, but I just can’t. I need to shower first, and I don’t think he’s showered yet either. And now there’s a stranger in the house, and I have to go in there like this.

I already know I’ll have to explain and apologize about it later, but I can’t get out of his car fast enough. I’m either going to have a panic attack or just start crying, or maybe even both, and I need to get to my room before either of those things happens. Making it to the bathtub would be even better, but step one is to get out of the car.

He’s talking to me, but I can’t focus on what he’s saying. I give him what I can only hope are appropriate auto-pilot answers and hurry away and into the house. I’m praying under my breath the whole way there that the girls are in the backyard with the babysitter. Please, please, just this once.

Some would say that if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. My bad luck doesn’t fail me today. There’s a strange man plopped right on the couch in the living room when I come in the door, with a twin sitting on either side of him. All I notice about him in my current mental state is that he’s smiling, and his hair is almost completely gray.

“Hi there. You must be Ronnie,” he immediately greets me, and I can tell he’s about to get up and come over to me.

“N-no, can’t. I can’t,” is all I manage to force out before making a mad dash across the room and down the hall.

“Rude!” I hear Ashley call after me.

“Yeah, rude!” Amy agrees with her as they giggle together.

“Shh, girls. You’re being rude,” he scolds them in a soft, grandfatherly tone. “Let her go. She’ll be back when she’s ready.”

When I finally make it into my warm, watery sanctuary and have a chance to catch my breath, I realize that maybe my luck isn’t so horrible after all. The man seems kind, and scolding the twins is something I thought only I did. It kind of makes me hope this guy will turn out to be the mysterious Warren. It would be nice to have an ally when it comes to dealing with my sisters.

Now I just have to figure out how to explain myself to Jason. I know he’s always worried about scaring me away, but what he doesn’t realize is that it’s me who should be worried. Why would he ever want to be with such a neurotic mess as the mate he’s been cursed with?