~Chapter Fifteen: Time to Talk~
"A what?"
I frown at Ryland's answer. Maybe he did not hear me right? "A mating frenzy," I repeat.
Ryland turns away from the sizzling pan to look me dead in the eye, his hands still working to make sure it does not burn. "Even if you repeat yourself, I will still have no idea what that means," he replies slowly, as if to make sure I can understand him.
My cheeks flush slightly at his tone, embarrassed that I misunderstood his meaning. "Uh, you know, when a Were makes a move on their intended mate and the mate - maybe unknowingly - accepts their advances and then the initiator-"
"You mean the second phase of the mating process?" Ryland asks, cutting me off. While I do not appreciate being cut off, all I do is glare and nod, holding my tongue to keep from saying anything stupid when we are talking about such an important question. "I never understood all those silly American terms."
"Just answer the question," I snap anyway.
He sighs. "Yes, I have," Ryland replies, confirming my fears. I was right; I did not want to hear that out-loud. But since there is no way to take back my question, I settle for trying to knock it out of my head by banging it against the refrigerator. Repeatedly.
However, a hand on my shoulder stops me by pulling me away and closer to Ryland. Before I know it, I am positioned between the lion and the stove, one of his hands still on the pan handle. I would push him away, but that could result in the pan spilling its contents all over the stove - and me.
"There is no reason to hurt yourself," he says as he continues to stir, as if I was not standing in front of him, partially blocking his view of the food.
I try to slip under his arm, but his elbows immediately move in closer so that they are touching my sides, making it harder to get away. Maybe if I move fast enough, I could push him away and move to the side, letting the hot food land on him. However, that is not a desirable method and it is not like he is sexually harassing me like the last time. If anything, I just feel like a toddler in a playpen, locked away so I cannot hurt myself. Though, need I remind him - and myself, apparently - that I am an adult and do not need 'adult supervision' to play with 'big kid' things?
"Can you please let me go?" I ask after a moment, grinding my teeth a little at having to be so close to him and yet be unable to push him away.
He does not reply as he turns off the stove and suddenly releases me as he moves towards the cabinet with the dishes. To my surprise, he only pulls out one bowl, but grabs two plates, setting them down on the counter. Then he goes to the refrigerator and takes out two...pastries, which he places on each of the plates. Next, he fills the single bowl with whatever it is that he was cooking on the stove. It appears to be a creamy chicken mixed with vegetables and other unidentifiable ingredients.
Passing me the bowl, Ryland picks up the two pastries and leads the way to the couches, leaving me to reluctantly follow after locating a clean spoon. He sets one of the pastries down on the table before seating himself across from it. Keeping an eye on him, I set the bowl down next to the plate he left for me.
"Aren't you going to have any?" I ask, gesturing with my spoon at the bowl.
Ryland starts to shake his head before I even finish my question. "I do not eat large breakfasts. A pastry will do," he replies before taking a bite of said pastry.
"Yeah, but you shifted. Twice. How aren't you hungry?" I cannot help but ask. It is not that I care if he eats a lot or not, but if he is hungry and only holding back because of tradition or whatever, that could mean this 'conversation' I want to have might just end with snappy answers and grumpiness. That is how everyone I know reacts when hungry and I am not sure why Ryland would be any different.
The lion simply shrugs, "When you grow up eating a certain way, your body learns to accept it."
While this piece of information does not ease my concern, it does allow me to drop the subject in favor of the reason he is in my cabin in the first place. "How is the mating, uh, second phase affecting your judgment?" I ask, wanting to get back on topic before I forget. And since the food in the bowl is still hot, I have a few minutes to get the ball rolling again.
"I am in control, if that is what you are asking," Ryland replies, and while I am not entirely sure if I believe that, it is a relief to hear him say it.
I lean back a little more, resting my head against the back of the couch as I relish the feeling of finally being able to relax. "Thank God," I mutter as the tension leaves my body. Out of all my questions, I think the question of his control was the one that was on my mind the most. The way he almost attacked Dylan made me question his reasons, and while I am still not sure why he wanted to attack Dylan, I can try to write it off as a lapse of judgment so I might actually be able to sleep tonight without the fear that Ryland's instincts have decided to take over. It usually a gradual thing, so it will not likely happen overnight.
"But if you leave again, I make no promises it will stay that way," Ryland adds and the worry returns. He couldn't have let me relax for five minutes?
"I won't. I should have known Dylan would not let me leave, so it was my mistake to call him," I admit with a sigh, sitting up once more to keep an eye on the lion's expressions. "But if anything like that happens again - catnip or otherwise - this bet ends and you lose. I know it was your brother's fault the last time, but I don't want to go through something like that again."
Ryland is quick to agree. "It will not happen again," he promises before taking another bite of his pastry as we fall into an uncomfortable silence.
I pick up the bowl and dip my pinky into it to see how hot it is. To my relief, it is warm, not hot or cool. The first bite is something of a test to see how it tastes and before I know it, I am shoveling it whole-heartedly into my mouth, taking almost no time to swallow or even breathe between bites. I can see that my disregard for manners is causing Ryland to frown, but I am too hungry to care now that there is finally something going into my stomach.
When I finish, I almost burp before remembering my company and coughing slightly to release the tension in my chest. "That was very good. Thank you," I say politely as I set the now-empty bowl back onto the coffee table. While my stomach is still has some room left for something else, I push the pastry towards Ryland to see if he wants it instead.
He looks at my offering for a moment before releasing a sigh and picking it up. Two minutes later, there is no food left on the table and neither of us has said a word. When Ryland stands up, I wonder if he is about to leave, but instead he takes the plates and bowl into the kitchen and I can hear the water running. I would help, but I am not sure how close I should be getting to him right now.
Finally, he speaks up once I hear the water turn off. "If our date had not ended the way it did, would you have said it was a good night?" Ryland asks from the kitchen.
The fact that he cannot see me right now makes it easier for me to reply honestly; I am pretty sure seeing his face while trying to answer the question would have driven me to lie. "Yeah, I had fun," I reply, thinking back to our fun conversation and how much I ended up laughing that night. If it was not for the catnip, I probably would have invited him in for another cup of coffee. Or tea, since my coffee machine is still out-of-order.
"Would you be willing to try again?" He inquires as he returns to the living room with two glasses of water, setting one down in front of me. Instead of sitting down on the couch, though, he leans back against the couch's armrest while he nonchalantly sips his water.
It is tempting to tell him no. There is no telling what could happen on our next 'date' and he is already feeling the effects of the mating frenzy. Why add fuel to a fire that I want to die as soon as possible?
Because he's fun.
And that is why my head begins to nod without my brain's permission. "Fine, but not today," I reply, wanting to give myself a little time to adjust to being back in my cabin. It already feels weird enough without all the wolves running around, bothering me for standing too close to the doors or bugging me to play a game to ease their boredom.
Ryland immediately accepts my answer with a sharp nod. "Of course. Tomorrow night, then?" He asks, his voice sounding hopeful. If I did not know for a fact that he is a cat, I might have been convinced from his tone that he is secretly a puppy.
"Sure. What should I dress for?" I ask. If he wants to go clubbing or to a bar, I would dress a little differently than I would if he was taking me to the diner or some little hole-in-the-wall restaurant.
"Casual. I am thinking of staying in and watching a movie," he suggests. I am a little surprised that he still remembers what I said about my idea of a perfect date with all that has happened, but it is admirable and I will admit that his suggestion sounds like a very good idea. Besides, a movie is just a movie. It is not like he is asking me to sleep with him.
Of course, that would mean spending a lot of time in a secluded environment with Ryland, but it is better than getting stuck in a loud club, which would hardly be a fun 'date' if I cannot even talk to the person I am there with. I may not be much of a conversationalist, but Ryland is a great person to discuss things with, as I have come to learn, even if he is the cause of most of my concerns.
"I'll call you an hour before I come over," Ryland suggests, but I shake my head.
"I left my phone at the pack house," I remember. In all the rush, it had no occurred to me to grab my phone, which means I will have to find some way to contact Dylan or wait for him to visit. He undoubtedly will visit the moment he realizes I do not have a phone, but it make take him a little while...and a lot of unanswered calls. Maybe I should invest in a landline. "Is seven good with you?"
Ryland nods. "If I am late, I will not be any later than a half hour."
"Okay," I accept as Ryland stands up once again. This time, I stand up as well, sensing the change in the mood.
"I will leave you to adjust back to your home. See you tomorrow, amore mio," he says and takes a step towards me. For a second, he stares at my lips like he wants to kiss me, but the threat in my eyes must be enough to keep him from doing that, because he runs a hand through my hair instead.
The action still warrants a low growl from me, but I am not angry enough to actually hiss. It is not like I had brushed my hair anyway, so ruffling my hair does not change all that much. Tossing me one last smile, he walks to the entryway and disappears out the door, closing it behind him.
I wait until I can no longer hear the sound of his truck engine before dropping back onto the couch. Sliding sideways, I groan when my head hits the pillow. I keep making stupid decisions when it comes to Ryland, and it is because I do not regret them that I keep making more. My peaceful college student life is falling to pieces right before my very eyes and I have to wonder how much I will regret this when I turn Ryland down at the end of our month. Am I leading him on too much? Am I leading myself on by trying to make a friend where a friend is not meant to be made? I want my lazy cat life back!