The Reluctant Mate

21 Amanda

I moved aside so that Porter could enter through the door, but he didn't move. "Want to go for a walk around the pack instead?" he asked.

"What, I'm allowed outside now?" I couldn't resist letting a bit of my acid flow. It was safer than any of the softer things that were corroding my desire to get away from him.

He cringed slightly. "Listen, I'm sorry about this whole mess."

"Well, you know, usually when you have a trespasser you call the police, not kidnap them," I pointed out. "One thing's kind of worse than the other."

"We don't involve the oblivious humans when we have a problem, it's already hard enough to keep ourselves hidden. What did you think you were doing here, anyway?"

I shrugged. "I thought something about the situation seemed off, like she fell into something bad. I just wanted to see if Carrie needed help." I conveniently ignored that a huge part of me had also been obsessed with what Porter was hiding.

"She fell into something, all right."

I didn't pursue that line of thought.

"So, do you want to get out of there?"

I resisted the urge to make other snarky comments about where I wanted to be going. I wanted to hold on to my anger. But now that I knew—was pretty sure—that this was temporary and I wasn't going to be ripped apart by werewolves, it was a lot harder to do, since it felt like a shitty werewolf themed vacation. Although getting out of the trailer would feel pretty good.

Except I really shouldn't spend more time around Porter, because even this little civil conversation was opening up all kinds of feelings I should be avoiding, and it was making me forget exactly why he wasn't what I wanted or needed. I wasn't looking for possessive permanence and he was all wrong for me—no matter what the mate thing thought—but when I stopped yelling and throwing things, he started to feel right.

It was dangerous territory.

I should send him away.

But I really did desperately want a break from the stupid trailer and it didn't seem like they had any plans to let me wander around alone.

"Fine."

I'd be fine as long as I didn't let him touch me.

Which was definitely dangerous since it had been so long since the last time we'd slept together, and I kind of craved another repeat. He looked as good as the first time I had met him, this time in jeans and a shirt that couldn't quite hide the movement of muscles underneath.

And it had been so good...

No, I was going to stay strong. I just needed to use my inhibitions to keep distance between us and everything would be fine.

I pulled on my own shoes—all the rest of my clothing was borrowed stuff Carrie had provided for me after I'd stopped throwing things at people—and it felt good to be getting out of there. Almost like I wasn't a captive, while I stepped down the stairs. "Ah, so this is what freedom tastes like, huh?"

He grimaced and I didn't have mercy on him as we started walking around amongst the trailers and half constructed buildings. "You know, it's pretty insulting that none of you werewolves think I can keep my mouth shut. There's plenty of things I never tell anyone. Like, for example, Carrie didn't know I was going to come and check this place out, did she? And even if I did want to, who would I tell? People would think I was insane if I started talking about werewolves. And honestly, they might be right, because would I even know if I was insane or not?"

"You're not insane."

"That sounds like something a drug induced hallucination dream would say."

The bastard took the opportunity to grab my hand. "Do I feel like a dream?"