Page 38 of His Determined Bear

Because you haven’t been.

I took a deep breath and attempted to steady my nerves before I put on my normal voice.

“Hey Graham, how’ve you been?” Yeah, that sounded normal.

He was silent for a moment again.

“Good.” His voice sounded tight, almost like he was swallowing down the answer he really wanted to give.

“You?” he asked. “Are you feeling better? I figured you must have been ill the past week….” He let the statement hang.

“I— yes, I feel much better,” I replied, taking the escape he’d given me.

“So can I cash in that rain check?” Graham asked. And I couldn’t help wondering why he bothered. I’d blown him off for a week. And here he was still being nice to me.

I cleared my throat, “Actually, something came up, back home. I had to leave quickly, but I’ll be back in time for the wedding.”

The silence on the other end of the line was damn near deafening. “You left town,” Graham asked. His voice was deathly calm.

I shivered because it was more effective than if he’d reacted any other way. I cleared my throat again before replying. “Yes. Yeah. Uhm work. It was out of the blue. I’m sure you know how these things go.”

I waited for him to lash out or something, but all he said was, “Alright, I’ll see you then.” And the call disconnected.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel, and I blinked a couple of times to stop the tears from doing their best to fall.

It made no sense why I would feel this way because I chose to leave. He probably thought I was brushing him off. But I’d hoped he would ask… what? For you to stay? Was he supposed to beg you to come back after you’ve blown him off so spectacularly? I bet he has a whole buffet of omegas to pick from. Why would he bother with you?

Chapter 15

Cooper

I smiled into the camera one more time before turning it off and laying the tripod stand on the table. Then I quickly picked up the cloth napkin spread across my lap to wipe my suddenly sweaty upper lip.

Fuck, when did it get so hot in here?

I looked around for the nearest exit. Maybe I just needed some fresh air. I stood ready to move out to the restaurant's patio area to catch my breath. Still, I wasn’t sure if I stood up too quickly or if the heat had finally gotten to me because everything went grey around the edges. I held on to the table for support, trying to steady myself. The absolute last thing I needed was to topple over face first. Or worst yet, face first into my food.

I did my best to breathe, but that seemed to make my stomach revolt. I needed to get out of here. I would have to reschedule my visit. Before I could stand, the waiter returned with my entree. The moment the scent of pepper hit my nostrils, I groaned and did my best to breathe out of my mouth.

Dammit, I couldn’t leave when they’d just brought out my food. I needed to take just a couple of bites, then I could go. Thankfully the chef wasn’t serving me himself, so I wouldn’t have to make excuses directly to him.

I picked up my tripod and recorded the food, but when I turned the camera to face me, I immediately knew I couldn’t use any of this footage. I looked like I was related to the Hulk, and green definitely was not my color.

I quickly decided it would be better for everyone if I returned another day when I didn’t feel so ill. I didn’t want to be rude and make them think I didn’t like the food, so I picked up my spoon and pushed around the goat meat in the pepper soup. It looked good, but the smell was not working for me at the moment. This was not the first time I’d had African pepper soup, so I knew it wasn’t the food that was making me sick. For some reason, my whole body seemed to be working against me. And I didn’t know why.

Yeah, you do.

I ignored that voice and used the spoon I’d been given to scoop a little of the broth into my rice. My friend Teni had made this for me before. I remembered her saying it was especially good when you weren't feeling well, so maybe it would settle my stomach.

You know that’s not the type of stomach bug you have.

I mixed the two together and lifted it to my mouth. I chewed slowly and swallowed. Okay, so that was working. I took another bite and then another, and nothing was threatening to come up.

Right when I thought I was finally out of the woods, the waiter approached and placed a platter down in front of me. “Compliments of the chef, sir.”

I groaned when the smell hit my nostrils, fried rice balls, also known as masa and peanut sauce. I jumped to my feet and barely got an excuse me out before I placed my hand over my mouth and raced towards the direction I hoped the restroom was located. The smell of lilies in the bathroom only made the nausea worse. Thankfully I managed to make it to a toilet bowl before emptying the entire contents of my stomach until nothing was remaining.

“Here you go,” I groaned when I realized I wasn’t alone in the bathroom. Apparently, I hadn’t even bothered to lock the door behind me. I looked up and groaned louder when I saw it was the head chef and owner of the restaurant.

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