Page 32 of Tolerated By the Sigma (Mate Hunt 7)

His eyes travelled slowly up and down my figure, practically burning me with that gaze, before he disappeared into the spare room I’d designated as his.

I didn’t want to follow him in, knowing I’d accidentally start an awkward conversation of some kind, so I headed back out to grab whatever was left in the truck.

Outside, I stopped and blinked at the truck’s bed.

It was empty.

Where was the rest of his stuff?

“I don’t have much,” Ryder said, his arm slipping around my waist as he stepped up beside me.

I hated how much I loved the way I felt with his arm around me.

“Well, most of us have more than we really need,” I mumbled.

He gave me a quiet chuckle. “Guess that’s a good way to look at it.”

I nodded, still not letting myself glance over at him.

“Are we okay?” His voice sounded more curious than concerned. He didn’t really know me; he couldn’t tell when I was stressed, or panicked, or anything else.

That was logical, but I still hated it.

“We’re good,” I lied.

What else was I going to do; tell him that I was almost positive he had at least made out with his ex-mate, if not done more with her?

Admit that I was insecure enough about all that shit to actually be stressing about it?

Acknowledge the fact that I had never felt like I fit into the town before, and that somehow becoming Ryder’s mate had emphasized that feeling instead of reducing it?

So yeah, I lied.

He only squeezed my hand in response, and I was pretty damn confident that he believed me. Ryder was about as stubborn as they came, so he would’ve kept pushing me if he thought I was hiding something.

We headed back inside, and then Ryder started cooking. I was still feeling all sorts of uncertainty, so I grabbed some cleaning supplies and busied myself cleaning my not-very-dirty bathroom to avoid more awkwardness.

I was scrubbing invisible dirt off of my shower’s walls when Ryder came in with enough food for a family of four.

Or at least, a family of four humans.

He eyed my cleaning spray, and the shower’s walls. “I can’t tell what you’ve cleaned and haven’t cleaned.”

“That’s because I keep up with the cleaning.”

It was an awkward response, and only partially true.

I went through phases where I cleaned a lot, and phases where I didn’t touch any cleaning supplies for a month or two. It never got super dirty because I always kept up with the dishes and whatnot, but it was rarely spotless.

“Want to eat in the kitchen?” He was still watching me, leaning up against the door with that massive plate of food.

No, I did not.

Eating in the kitchen would equal conversation, and I was no longer feeling good about chit chat with Ryder.

Why had no one mentioned how awkward the whole mating thing was?

Though, I supposed some amount of awkwardness would’ve vanished if he hadn’t had a first mate.

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