Ten Reasons NOT to Fall in Love With a Bear

Reason #3

Reason #3

                Sure enough, he was in my bed when I woke up in the middle of the night. No wonder I was sweating. The guy radiated more heat than an electric blanket. I didn’t kick him out yet, though. I’d wait until morning because it would be way more amusing.

                I rolled back over and fell asleep almost instantly.

                In the morning, he was back on the floor, dead asleep. I sat up and looked at him. He was still extremely skinny. Not that a few hours full of food and warmth could change that. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, ‘accidently’ kicking him in the ribs in the process. “Whoops,” I muttered, standing up to go to my bathroom that was across the hall.

                I stopped at my dresser to choose something to wear for that day. I chose a pair of jeans, a large t-shirt, and the usual underwear (duh).  Just as I shoved the drawer closed, Joey stirred. I sighed and rushed out of the room. As soon as I slammed the bathroom door closed, I stripped down and stepped in the shower.

                I let the water relax me. And as soon as I’m all clean and ready to get out, the door swings open. I didn’t think it was the cat. Did I even have a cat? I should ask…

                I peeked out the curtain just in time to see Joey stand in front of the toilet. I groaned and closed the curtain. “Really? Are you serious?” I asked him.

                “I have to pee,” He replied like that was any reason to interrupt my peaceful shower.

                “Get out!” I yelled.

                He sighed loudly and continued to pee. I don’t know how they do it, but I’m pretty sure guys can pee on command. It only took him three minutes to leave.

                I growled as the door slammed shut, sweeping the curtain open and reaching for my towel, only to realize that Joey was still standing there with a huge grin on his face. I screamed and covered up with the curtain. “Get out you sick pervert!” I threw the first thing I could find at him. It was my hairbrush. Hit him right in the center of his forehead.

                “Ouch,” He muttered, hastily opening the door and darting out of the bathroom.

                I dressed quickly, half afraid he would come back in and half wanting to murder him and bury him in my backyard.  Maybe even give him a tombstone that said, ‘Here lies that idiot bear who thought it was a good idea to watch me undress.’ I guess that was a little lengthy… Maybe I’d just go for ‘dead for idiocy.’ Much better, don’t you think?

                I flung the door open after patting my hair mostly dry and cried, “Joey! Get your furry ass over here right now!”

                He practically materialized in front of me. “Yes?”

                I got in his face. “I let you into my house. I feed you. I let you shower. I washed your clothes. I let you stay the night. In my room no less, and I know you were in my bed last night, bucko! I don’t even know your last name or why you were in the woods with amnesia, but I still took you in. Then you go and try to see me naked at every turn. Why the hell is that?” I was shouting, almost screaming by the end of it.

                He looked legitimately scared. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think it would irritate you that badly.”

                “Wouldn’t irritate me? You walked into the bathroom without knocking and then pretended to leave, knowing I was going to step out!”

                “In my defense, I thought most people grabbed their towel before they opened the curtain…”

                “You know what else most people do? They run away from bears. They don’t let strange boys into their home and they most certainly don’t care!” I whirled and stomped toward my room. “You can let yourself out to go wherever you were going.”

                I slammed my door shut and flopped onto my bed, face first. I let out a loud groan and then went silent.

                Not even twenty minutes later, he knocked on my door with a nearly silent, “May?”

                “What?”

                “Can I come in?”

                “No.”

                He came in anyway. “I just wanted to apologize. I forgot that you didn’t shift. You don’t feel it, do you?”

                “Feel what?” I asked.

                He touched my arm. I didn’t feel a thing except the pressure of his touch and the warmth of his skin. “Nothing?”

                “Nope.”

                “Oh, well, I feel it. You know, the spark. The electricity that runs through my body when I touch you.” I gulped. I knew exactly where he was going with this. It was exactly what Dad had described. He said it happened when…  “May, I think you’re my mate.”

                I bit my lip. “You can’t be,” I said in a gravelly voice.

                “You know you are,” He whispered quietly.

                I knew it. He knew. There was something about him, even if I didn’t feel a spark. There was some reason I had been so kind in caring toward him.

                Third reason not to fall in love with a bear? They make you terrible liars.