Page 8 of Bear with Me
He nodded toward the blazing fireplace with a grin. "Yeah, thanks! That's cool. It's a new journal. It's not like I'll use all the pages on this trip."
"I broke it."
He frowned. "It's a journal. How did you break it?" He followed my gaze to the loveseat, where the incriminating paper lay twisted and crumpled.
He rushed over to examine it, his finger tracing along the dogeared page. "Yeah, okay, you broke it." His next breath sounded more like a sigh.
"I'll buy you a new one. The town's not far from here. I'll call a cab in the morning and?—"
"It's all right."
Except it wasn't all right. He squinted his eyes shut and huffed when the first of his tears cascaded down his cheeks. "Fuck."
I moved without thinking, shoving the loveseat aside and wrapping my arms around Blake. "I'm so sorry."
"It was my last gift from my mom."
For a man who was angry at me, he tucked his head against my chest like he wanted to live there. I wanted that too. It feltwonderful to be held by someone who wasn't family, though I felt responsible for making him cry.
"Is she …"
"My parents died in March." He sobbed harder into my shirt. "Car crash on the way home from visiting me for my birthday."
"I'm so sorry." I sounded like a broken record.
"It's not your fault."
I kissed his temple. "It's not yours, either. You know that, right?"
His head snapped up. "Why would it be my fault?"
Shit. I didn't mean to make it worse. "They were visiting you?"
"Is that why my sister won't speak to me?" He dropped his head back to my shoulder and squeezed so hard my ribs popped. "She thinks it's my fault! Everyone thinks it's my fault."
"I doubt that?—"
"You don't even know me, and you think it's my fault!"
"I don't." I cupped the back of his head where it rested on my shoulder, and his undercut stubble tickled against my palm. "You've had a rough day, and maybe a rough year since your parents died."
He sniffled. "So?"
"Give yourself a break tonight. Let's get you fed, and then I want to show you something."
I gave his shoulders another squeeze and let go, though my bear wanted to settle him in my lap on the loveseat while we ate. Instead, I returned to our food on the counter, and he hustled to the bathroom, wiping his eyes.
The kitchen had a dining set with four place settings, including silverware. I grabbed two forks from the drawer and handed one to Blake. Even with puffy eyes and a red nose, he was still the most attractive omega I'd ever seen. It was hard not to stare.
We both leaned over the countertop, but then Blake bumped his knee on something when he took his first bite. He laughed, cupping his hand over his mouth. With a loud scrape of wooden legs across the hardwood floor, he pulled out a stool and sat down.
"This is delicious," he said when he'd finished his mouthful.
I fished another stool from beneath the countertop and carefully balanced my ass on it.
"Want to try?" Blake shoved his container of cheese-covered chips toward me.
"Only if you want to exchange a mushroom or cheese curd." I knocked the container of mushrooms against his.
