Page 143 of Broken Bonds
I won’t have to fake not wanting anyone but Todd to take me for the first time. Intellectually, I look forward to my future initiation process. Getting railed by a bunch of guys? Yep, sign me up.
But there’s definitely something inside me, the more I think about this, that rebels at the thought of Todd not being the first during my mating heat.
Like, to the level that I would stupidly fight someone other than him who tried to fuck me first. And this isn’t a feeling I had before this morning. Before this morning, I eagerly anticipated my initiation—and okay, yeah, hopefully experiencing Jax’s knot—and it didn’t matter to me what order all that happened in.
This has to be a mate bond.
There isn’t another explanation for it that makes a damned bit of sense. Not a rational one.
All I can do is hope whatever they’ve come up with works the first time, because the sooner my life with Todd can truly begin, the better I’ll like it.
Todd’s still not home by the time I return to my apartment a little past 9:30 after putting the clean sheets on his bed and washing the dishes. Yes, my nerves are starting to get the better of me the longer he’s out of contact. I don’t want to call him and sound all whiny, especially when I know he’s probably got a lot of things on his to-do list as well as on his mind. I don’t doubt that whatever’s going to happen, he’s as nervous about it as I am. I sensed that from him earlier at the barn.
But come 10:30, I’m yawning and he’s still not home, so I turn on music and turn off the lights and try to get some sleep because either way, I really should be up early in the morning to get down to the barn when I’m supposed to.
Even if I’m his mate, I was serious when I told him I want to work. It’s fun to joke about being a kept mate, but I am not built to just sit around and do nothing.
I still haven’t heard his truck return when I finally drift to sleep somewhere around 11:00, and the next thing I know, it’s early morning and my alarm’s going off.
Well, hell.
I grab a shower, get dressed, and head next door after peeking around the end of the house to see if Todd’s truck is there.
It isn’t.
But he’s been home, because there’s a note awaiting me on the counter next to a fresh pot of coffee.
Sorry, I have a lot of things to do today. Love you.
That leaves me simultaneously wistful that I missed him but stupid-happy he left me a note and told me he loves me.
I’m a complicated bitch, okay?
And he made me coffee. That, I now realize, counts as a love language to me, because this bitch right here looooves coffee.
Besides, Todd buys the good coffee.
So I pour myself a bowl of cereal and, after cleaning up after myself and fixing a travel mug of coffee to take with me, I head out to the barn.
And I managed to do it without going and rolling around on Todd’s bed first, or stealing any clothes from his hamper.
That’s self-control, right?
Right.
And that’s what I’ll tell myself.
Two of the guys called in today, which puts us short-handed, but in a way it’s good because it means I’m busier than usual, and it leaves me absolutely no time to think about anything except working. I like that it also allows me yet another chance to prove myself to my co-workers, that I can pick up the slack without complaint or needing my hand held.
I’m useful, and I’m appreciated.
I never felt either of those things growing up.
Not long before lunch, I spot Todd in the ATV heading for the barns, but he bypasses them and keeps going.
Okay, yeah, that stings just a little, but I realize he’s busy, pulled in a bunch of different directions, and probably has a bunch of stuff to do considering we’re two guys down today.
A few minutes later, Terry, the barn manager, walks up. “Hey, Todd asked me to send you up to the house for lunch.”
