Page 104 of Mate
“I like it better here,” I say, tapping the stone countertop.
“Can you Humans just not sit normally?”
“Can you Weres just not mind your business?”
He splashes me with soap suds, and I grin as I cover my face.
After, I make tea. He makes me add several spoonfuls of sugar, and we drink it on the back porch, sitting on the steps, long after the sun has set. From the same mug. His lips touch the same water molecules as mine.
“I can’t believe you take your coffee black but sweeten your tea,” I say.
“I don’t drink black coffee.”
“What? Since when?”
“Since I started drinking it, during the High Middle Ages.”
“But . . . I’ve been giving you black coffee.”
“And I have been hating it.”
I frown. “Are you sure you don’t take it black? Like areal man?”
His eyebrow lifts. “I wasn’t aware of the proven correlation between virility and coffee intake.”
“Oh, there isn’t one. But you’re supposed to be warped by toxic masculinity and not know that. And I’m supposed to be the one who enlightens you.”
His stare feels like a kiss. More than any kiss I’ve experienced ever did. “You’re really a nuisance, aren’t you?”
I grin so hard, my cheeks hurt. “What do you even do when I’m not here?”
“It’s a good question. When you’re not around, the entire pack just sits around and thumb-twiddles— ”
“Oh, come on.” I elbow his biceps. “You know what I mean. What’s your corporate mission? What’s an Alpha’s routine? You wake up and the first thing you do is . . . ?”
“Chase that squirrel we discussed.”
“Koen. Don’t force me to break into your diary.”
He shrugs. Takes another sip, as if thinking about it. “It changes. For the most part, a well-functioning pack is a well-oiled machine. Everyone has their skillset, and everyone has their job. There’s lots of delegating, but as the Alpha, the buck stops with you. Which means that when something isn’t going great, when there is a decision to be made, that’s where I need to be.”
I look at him. His strong nose. The set of his eyes. How is it possible that I find him even more handsome than I did the first time I met him? “Do you ever consider . . . you know?”
“Idon’tknow, no.”
I scoot closer. Conspiratorial. “Do you ever consider going full dictator? I’m talking thirty-foot bronze Koen statue. Koen stamps. Koen as every child’s middle name. Senior prom theme: Koen. Mandatory Koen parades with Koen floatsevery week.”
“You done?”
I sigh. “Those who have the means never have the vision. Want some?”
I found monster cookies in his cupboard— another Ana souvenir. They’re a bit stale but still good. I eat most of one, then talk him into a bite by holding what’s left to his face and pouting. His mouth brushes my fingertips, and the memory of it imprints against the pad of my thumb. The scrape of his teeth. An impression of heat.
I pull away. Listen as he lists all the places he wants to show me, here in his territory, and clench my fist to hoard the warmth of his touch. It’s getting late, and the ocean breeze has me shivering, but I don’t want to go inside. I’m afraid that it’llbe over, two doors and a hallway between us, so I lift my closed fists. “Choose one.”
“No.”
“Pleeeease.” He picks the right. “I’m excited to inform you that we’ll be solving a crossword puzzle together.”
