Page 37 of Bear with Me
"Hmm?"
"We're having pasta and vegan red sauce. Which kind of pasta do you prefer?"
"Either is fine with me." My chest tingled. "Did you buy the sauce just for me?"
He laughed. "No. I looked everything up. My favorite is pretty basic and qualifies."
"Thanks for checking." I'd cooked for myself whenever I stayed with my parents. My mom loved to bake cookies with eggs, and I refused to eat them. The treatment of animals in factory farms was horrific, even for egg-laying chickens. I didn't want to add to any animal's suffering. Plant-based diets were also better for the environment, as were my hybrid SUV and energy-efficient apartment. I'd added to my carbon footprint with the flight to Oregon, but I flew so infrequently, I hoped to balance it out before I flew again.
I wanted to ask Ollie how often he flew, but the thought slipped away as another wave of heat washed over me. Fanning my face, I sank onto the wooden bench seat and scooted toward the door, where it was cooler.
"I hope you like al dente," Ollie said, sliding a carb-loaded bowl to me and setting a small glass of white liquid beside it. "Almond milk. I know you prefer water, but I thought you could use the protein."
My eyes were a little blurry when I grinned at him. "Thank you. That's really sweet."
"You hate almond milk, don't you."
"No, I like it. That's what I drink in my lattes." It tasted weird by itself, but I could wash down some tomato sauce with it, no problem.
Ollie handed me both a fork and a spoon. "Eat."
"Fancy." I twirled the pasta around the fork. I knew the spoon was supposed to aid with the twirling, but my family didn't eat spaghetti that way.
Ollie sat on the bench across from me with a bowl of rotini and so much sauce, it looked like soup. "I made both kinds of pasta," he said. "There's more sauce, if you want more."
I laughed. "This is perfect, thanks." I wasn't just saying that because I was in heat and needed the energy. Sure, the pasta came from a box, and the sauce jar looked like something you'd find on restaurant shelves, but it was my first meal in Ollie's house, and it was delicious.
"How are your parents?" I asked. We'd texted during the week, but it was still entertaining to hear him talk about his trip to see them. He asked me about my week at the call center, and before we knew it, our bowls were empty.
"How do you feel?" Ollie asked as he rinsed our bowls in the sink.
"Not bad. Maybe I'm not going into heat, after all."
He shook his head. "You are. I can smell your slick from here."
"Yeah?"
"This time, I want to taste it, if that's all right with you."
Fuck yeah, it was.
Ollie's bedroomwas almost as big as the entire vacation cabin where we'd stayed. The king-sized bed sat in one corner, and a gorgeous little seating area with a loveseat and a rug I hoped was faux fur.
"That's not real, is it?"
"Gods, no. Synthetic. My shifter ancestors would never forgive me." He sighed and sat down on his bed, motioning for me to sit next to him. We both had far too many clothes on, but I had enough patience to sit beside him instead of straddling him and taking what I wanted.
"We just met, so I bought alpha condoms. I can't stop my knot, so they might break. I also have knotty toys."
"I'm still on suppressors. This heat shouldn't have happened, but I'm not fertile?—"
"You are." He sighed. "Believe me, if I had a dollar for every time someone in my family said they got someone pregnant while they were on suppressants, I'd have two dollars. My youngest brother and his mate aren't fated, and that's a huge issue with my mom."
"But we are."
Ollie looked at me with hope in his gaze, and I patted his knee. "I want you, not a toy. We can try the condoms, but it's not the worst thing in the world if they break."
"It's not?" He frowned at me. "Are you saying …"
