by J. D. Light
Finally, after a few moments of silence, he looked up at me, startling a bit to find me watching him.
I smiled, raising my eyebrows, and letting him know I was open to his questions, and he chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"I guess my curiosity isn't very subtle, is it?"
"Nope."
"I was just wondering…" He paused again, licking his lips and swallowing hard. "What would happen if someone were to bite a chosen, but not really claim them. Would a bite mark placed in a pretty visible area be enough to dissuade the bad guys?"
I blinked, a little stunned. "Maybe. In all honesty, the only thing that lets other shifters know that someone is taken is the presence of the bite mark and that person smelling like the shifter. I suppose if an unmated chosen was to get bitten and maybe wear the shifter’s clothing, it could probably be pretty convincing."
His eyes lit up like he'd just discovered the cure to all terminal illness, so I put my hands in the air to slow him down a bit.
"But you'd have to get bitten, like, every other day for the bite to smell like a shifter's mark, since your body would be overpowering it with your own scent as it tried to heal you. If you were claimed, you'd have the essence of your mate inside you at all times, so your scent would already be changed to make it to where your scent and his scent were mixed." I paused, watching his face carefully, but he didn't seem phased by that information.
"You'd also have to be very, very careful every time you were bitten not to tear. As a mate, you'd adopt your shifter's healing ability, so even if you and your mate were doing it like rabbits five or six times a day, your wound would always look partially healed.
"It could be easy to emulate that if there wasn't any ripping, and we could even pat it with a little make-up to help with the rest, but… apparently, sometimes it's hard not to tear the skin."
He nodded like he understood what I was saying, but his lack of blush told me he probably didn't. Depending on what couples you talked to, some might happily and graphically explain the moment a shifter sank their teeth into their mate, and there were others that would never tell a soul.
Had he just never heard what happened?
One of the streak kids who stocked shelves on the weekend walked into the break room, cutting off all talk of biting, but I didn't miss the way he tried to hide his smile as he walked over to the fridge, grabbing a packed lunch, which told me he'd overheard at least part of our conversation.
We talked about things that were a little less dramatic, including Rowe's skunk until his break was over and then we tip-toed out, peeking around corners the entire time, scanning for a purple track suit, or a nineteen-year-old who neither of us was equipped enough to handle.
Thankfully, the two were gone, and it was safe for Logan to return to work, while I stood by, occasionally wandering around the front.
Recker walked in about fifteen minutes before closing, looking almost petulant. I started to question what was wrong with him, but that became pretty obvious when a smirking Meyers came in, followed by Braden, Rowe and Malik. Braden and Rowe both seemed to be amused by something as well, while Malik found me with his gaze, giving me a nod.
I had to admit, I never would have expected the man to come that far, but he felt sorry for me when it came to my mate situation, so he'd decided to forgive me for keeping him from killing one of the streak members with a pickle jar when the man made the grave mistake of hitting on him.
"Everybody has crushes on celebrities when they're young, Braden said, earning a chuckle from his mate that only got worse when Recker turned around and glared at them, and Braden smacked his mate on the arm.
"Yeah, when they're younger," Meyers said, not even bothering to hide his smile. "Not when they're a hundred and thirteen years old."
"It's not even that big a deal," Recker defended, crossing his arms and glaring. I just thought he was attractive."
Malik turned to me and Logan, the tiniest smile turning up the corner of his mouth. "I think he stopped breathing when the guy came on the screen. In fact, I don't think he breathed through the entire episode."
"You guys are making way too big a deal out of this," Recker whined, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. "I was just surprised. He's really attractive."
"Who are you guys even talking about?"
"There's a new series out," Meyers said, looking almost gleeful. "The man who plays one of the main characters is Recker's new imaginary boyfriend. He's going to get posters of him to put over his bed, and pillows with his face on, so he can make out with them all the time."
"What the fuck happened to you, man?" I asked Meyers, more shocked by the fact that the man seemed nothing like the asshole I'd met when he'd first come to town. The man everyone in the streak was just a little afraid of, because of the things he did to get answers
Meyers shrugged, still chuckling, but he pulled his mate against him, smiling down into Braden's face when the man tilted his head back to look at him.
Damn. More happily mated couples.
Logan came up to stand next to me, bumping my shoulder with his. He was almost as tall as me, but definitely bulkier. If I was a human, his shoulder check might have actually rocked me a bit, but instead, it simply offered me support.
Had I been being obvious with my jealousy, or had he simply known that the mushy stuff would get to me?
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, giving him a small smile when I found him doing the same to me.
"You guys had better get what you need," Ryk said as he came to stand next to Malik, slapping one of his massive paws down on the smaller man's shoulders. "It's about time to close up, and I have a date tonight."
I wasn't sure if Ryk ever even saw it coming. I'd barely seen it from my vantage point, and I was looking right at them. The big guy stumbled sideways as a thirty-pound bag of dogfood rained down all over the floor, the tattered remains of the sack hanging from Malik's grip.
Ryk, stepped and stumbled over the cascading dogfood, hitting a loose patch of gravel and spinning out, before his feet slid out from under him completely. It was amazing how close to parallel he got to the floor before he landed flat on his back, his head hitting the metal shelving and knocking him out.
A goofy giggle started deep in my stomach, growing significantly as the stunned stillness of the entire grocery store hit me.
"Hmm," Malik said, nudging the downed tiger with the toe of his shoe. "That was unexpected."
More laughing started, and even Meyers tested out his rusty chuckle. When Ryk came to a few moments later, everyone, save Malik, was laughing so hard we were crying.
Ryk really was a nice guy, but one of the things that annoyed the hell out of me about the man was that he tended to nearly break your damn shoulder when he flopped one of his massive paws down on you like that.
"You don't even have to say anything," he grumbled, picking himself up off the floor. He rubbed his head when he was finally standing, giving Malik a leery look with one tiny drop of blood clinging to the day's growth of whiskers just under his nose.
"You deserved that," I said, still chuckling.
"I said you didn't have to say anything." He looked so disgruntled, and I was pretty sure his nose was crooked.
"You should probably straighten that out before your date," I said waving a hand in front of my own nose, crinkling it.
He glared at me and looked around at the mess on the floor, reaching up to quickly grab his nose and pop it back into place. The sound was disgusting, and I saw my mate flinch out of the corner of my eye, but Ryk didn't even seem phased.
I'll clean this up since River is right," he grumbled, picking the discarded and destroyed bag off the floor. "I definitely deserved it. Sometimes I forget how heavy my hands are.
He gave a big sigh and wandered off towards the back, probably in search of a broom and dust pan, and we all turned to look at Malik whose lips were pursed as he stood there with his arms crossed, glaring after the man.
<
br /> "Let it go, Malik," Braden said, rolling his eyes at his friend. "He just wasn't thinking."
Malik's eyes moved back over to his friend, and he frowned, shaking his head. "I'm not even mad."
"Then why are you still glaring?" Braden asked, raising an eyebrow.
Malik shrugged. "I was just curious about that Hawaiian shirt, and the fact that he's wearing shorts that stop at the middle of his thighs. Is he in a fraternity or something?"
I started laughing again, and my mate joined me. I didn't know if Malik had intended it to be a joke or not, but I definitely found it funny. Especially since Ryk was always chasing college girls and absolutely refused to grow up.
Rowe smirked at Malik, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Come on, Dog-Food-Slinger. Let's get those steaks and get out of here before they have to close."
"Seriously, he didn't even buy the right size shirt," Malik said, as Rowe dragged him away. "He's probably gonna lose an arm or something. He can't be getting circulation to his fingers."
"Alright," Myers said, rubbing his hands together. "Braden and I are in charge of vegetables. Recker, you get the beer."
"No making out in produce." I called, when they took off. "It's almost closing time.
"You should've said that to Malik," Meyers yelled over his shoulder. "He's the one that likes to pin Rowe up against the shelves and stick his tongue down his throat."
"That's true," Rowe yelled from somewhere in the store, presumably the meat area.
Chapter Three
"How sure are you that your mate doesn't want to be with you?" I asked as River walked into the room from the kitchen, a broad smile on his face.
I almost felt bad for asking about his mate. I had a feeling the sad mood from earlier in the day had everything to do with all the mate talking we'd done the day before, and he'd just gotten his smile back.
He had such a great smile. His mouth naturally curved up at the corners, making it seem like he was always thinking of something that made him happy. Or something naughty. Or something naughty that made him smile.
He paused as he came to stand next to me where I was sitting on the couch, looking thoughtful. "Well," he said hesitantly, staring down at me. "I've known him for a few months, and he's never shown any signs of being attracted to me. He even says stuff sometimes that makes it pretty clear he's shoved me in the friend zone."
I frowned, licking my teeth. "I hope you don't get mad at me for saying this, but I think your mate might be blind, or at the very least, stupid."
"Uh…" he blinked down at me owlishly, but at least he didn't look angry. That really could've gone either way, in all honesty. Everyone knew better than to talk bad about somebody's mate.
"He's neither," River said, giving me a strange smile I wasn't sure how to interpret. Then his eyes went soft. "He's actually one of the most amazing people I know." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I think the real problem is that he can see better than anyone. Or maybe it's that he's smarter than everyone. I think he just sees, or knows, something about me that nobody else can see, or seems to know."
I nodded, but I actually had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't know what he thought was wrong with him, but he and his mate were idiots, and I was extremely jealous of the man who River put so much faith in, that he'd believe there was something seriously wrong with him, than believe there might be something wrong with his mate.
"Would you be willing to mark me?" I blurted as he fell into the seat next to me on the couch.
I stared wide-eyed at the table in front of me. I hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that. I'd planned to sort of ease him into it, but as usual, when the subject of mates came around, I lost my fucking mind.
His entire body froze, including his hands, both holding beer bottles, one for him and one for me.
I bit my lip, moving my head slowly in his direction, wishing I could rewind time about ten seconds and figure out a better way to ask that question. I'd shocked him, that much was obvious. He was watching me out of the corner of his wide eyes, his mouth parted in shock.
I reached out, pulling the bottle closest to me out of his hand. It took him longer than it probably should have to relinquish it, his hand gripping the glass bottle so hard, I was surprised it hadn't shattered.
"You want me to mark you?" he asked, his voice going high. "Like a mate mark?"
I nodded, taking a long pull of my beer. "I know you have a mate, and I wouldn't want to put that in jeopardy, but if you're pretty sure that your mate doesn't want you anyway…" I cringed, shaking my head. "That sounded horrible. I just mean, if you don't think that marking me would cause problems with your mate, would you consider doing it, for the added safety?"
He blinked at me, his eyes not really focused, and put the mouth of the beer to his lips tipping his head back for a long draw.
I tried not to watch the way his lips pressed against the bottle, or the way his Adam's apple moved up and down with each swallow, but of course, because I was weak, I did. I watched him completely drain that bottle with avid fascination, like an open-mouthed idiot, I held mine out in offering, not saying a word, just giving a small grunt, really showing off my intelligence.
He blinked at the bottle for a moment, glanced up into my eyes, and then took the bottle out of my hand.
I bit my lip, somehow managing not to moan. I didn't really understand why he was chugging beer. It wasn't like he could actually get drunk or even buzzed. Maybe it was the symbolism. Or maybe he was just really thirsty.
All I really knew, was that I had a raging hard-on, and I wished I had about four more beers to hand over.
"I don't really know how to handle this," he said, putting the empty bottles on the coffee table in front of him and resting his elbows on his knees. He turned his head to look at me, his eyes still not quite focused, but maybe slightly clearer than they had been earlier and such a beautiful green.
"Just tell me what you think. What you actually think." I bit my lips again, my nerves making me twitchy. "
I'd learned a long time ago that my nerves were rarely my friend. And in this case, they were telling me to get up and leave the room. They were telling me to run while I still had the chance.
Logically, I knew River would never hurt me, not physically anyway. But what if whatever came out of his mouth next, hurt me?
Everyone hated rejection. I wasn't actually sure why. It honestly didn't make all that much sense, especially in moments like this. I already knew I couldn't be more to River than what I already was––not that I completely understood what it was that I was to him––the man had a fucking mate. Apparently, he was an idiot of a mate, but that wasn't the point.
The point was, there should be no reason why I was holding out hope that the man would someday decide he wanted me. If his mate never wised up, and went after him, then River was kinda doomed to spend the rest of his life alone, since he'd already met the person who was perfect for him and nobody else would do from then on. The prospect of being told no shouldn't have the ability to hurt me more than I was already hurt by the whole thing.
His answer shouldn’t have that kind of power. And considering how stupid the plan was anyway, whether or not he said no shouldn't even matter.
And in reality, rejection always came down to just one word. No. So why was it so hard to hear that word? That tiny, two letter word.
Asking River to do this for me wasn't dangerous. I knew that without a doubt, but for some reason, my heart was racing.
If he said no, it wouldn't be because he didn't like me as a person, it would simply be because he already had a mate. And honestly, the chances of him agreeing to it were small.
What would be in it for him? Sure, it would probably make his job a little easier, but it would mean biting me every other day, and wearing my clothes to bed every night just so I could put them on the next day like a weirdo. Who wanted to live like that?
I did.
And maybe that was it. Maybe the part t
hat made it hard for me, the part that would actually make it feel like rejection if he said no, was the fact that I wanted those things. I wanted him to mark me. I wanted to feel like his. I wanted to smell like him. I wanted everyone we knew to think we were together, to smell him on me and me on him.
It was completely selfish, and he really had nothing to gain from it. Even the prospect of the added safety wasn't worth the headache since it wouldn't actually save him from having to spend time with me.
In fact, the only thing that would really change, would be that he wouldn't have to stick with me all day. When I went to work during the day, he could probably go do other things, but at the end of the day, he'd still have to come home to me.
"Actually, now that I think about it, maybe that's not such a good idea." I grabbed the beer bottles off the table and made my way into the kitchen.
Whatever had possessed me to ask him that?
But I knew what it was. I'd been so desperate to have, for even just a moment, a connection with him that could even remotely be construed as a mating bond, I'd come up with a plan that completely revolved around that idea, without giving a single thought how it would affect him.
I hurried off to the kitchen, needing to get away from him at that moment. It absolutely was not his fault that my desperation had gotten away from me, but I was embarrassed.
The bottles slipped from my hand, surprisingly not breaking as they bounced across the floor, making clanging sounds against the hardwood, as I was pressed up against the wall face first just inside the kitchen.
I nearly panicked at first, wondering if somebody had broken in. Possibly someone who wanted to kidnap me. Possibly someone who was getting paid to grab me, because my name was on the list.
I started to struggle, but the man behind me was too strong, his chest pressed into my back as rough, calloused hands gripped my wrists hard, pinning them above my head against the wall.
"If I say no, are you gonna ask someone else?"
I shivered as River's breath washed over my neck and ear and I gasped when I realized who had me pinned, struggling to turn my head so I could see him, but he wouldn't let me move, holding tight to my wrists and pressing his chest more firmly against my back.