Page 35 of Plus-Size Bullied Mate

“You’re not wrong that I handled it badly. Taking you to my place, claiming you in front of the pack before either of us was ready…” I trail off to take a breath, finding it hard to voice what feels like vulnerability. “I really did want to help you, and everything I sprung onto you wasn’t random.”

She hesitates at that, more like she’s resisting the urge to look at me. “What wasn’t?”

“Why I needed you to stay, and why I initiated the bond,” I murmur, stopping myself before I can get in too deep.

This is the part I’ve been less willing to get close to, and the part that requires opening something I’ve had locked down for so long that it feels impossible to let go of. So I take my time and form the words first, revealing as much of it as I can for now.

“I had the feeling something was there, and I needed to know.”

It’s not the full answer, and I know that, and from the slight shift in her profile, I think Tessa knows it too, but she doesn’t push.

As much as I want to be, I’m not ready to give her the whole thing yet. The thought of saying it out loud feels like the kind of exposure I haven’t worked up to yet, more like cracking myself open to let her see everything. While I want her to trust me, I’m not there yet.

“I should have… done some things differently.”

“You should have done a lot of things differently,” she returns a bit pointedly, but not meant with cruelty.

Unable to deny it, I sigh and nod. “Yes.”

“That seems like a big admission for you.”

“I’m aware,” I murmur, feeling like I’m on the chopping block, even if I deserve it. If that’s what it takes to make her see I’m not some kind of monster trying to ruin her life, then so be it.

Something subtle changes in her, and while it’s barely perceptible, that faint easing of the posture she’s been holding since I sat down doesn’t get past me. It isn’t surrender, but it’s an improvement.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I tell her, swallowing enough of my pride to admit it. “I’ve spent a long time making decisions and enforcing them for the greater good without hesitation. This feels completely different.”

“I noticed,” she says.

“I imagine so.”

We both go quiet for a moment, then Tessa sighs and murmurs, “I don’t know how to do this either.”

She’s looking at the water when she says it, but it’s raw enough to feel direct. When I don’t say anything, she continues, “I’ve spent so long pushing through things without anyone noticing I was struggling that I’m not used to someone actually trying, let alone speaking to me.”

Instinctively, something more empathetic pulls in my chest at that, and more than anything, I want to ease that burden for her.

“I know,” I offer, able to see those reflexes of hers whenever we talk. Those defense mechanisms are so deeply ingrained in her that she doesn’t know how to shut them off.

“You don’t, fully.”

“No, not fully,” I agree.

Above us, the pines are quiet as the breezeless night keeps them still, and the sky through the canopy is the deep saturated black of high altitude with the stars shining brilliantly.

In the peaceful moment that feels like a rare concession for us both, I glance at her profile in the dim light, tracing from the line of her jaw to the slight furrow between her brows that means she’s back to warring with herself.

She’s closer than she was now, and I’m not sure when that happened, but it’s enough for me to notice, and to send an unfamiliar sensation up my spine.

The bond feels more like it’s going up in frequency, and urging me to just cut to the chase. Famously, this kind of connection doesn’t care about reason or whatever reservations one might have. Instead, it wants the fastest route to closeness and intimacy and hates being ignored.

At this distance, in this dark, with the steam, the cold air around it, and the lack of argument happening between us, I can feel myself slipping. More so than ever, I’m giving in to that demand and the desire to see where this might go.

“Tessa.”

Her name is in my mouth before I can stop it, sounding softer and quieter than intended.

She turns her head to meet my gaze, and the distance between us is so short now that I can see the reflection of the water in her eyes, and the look on her face that tells me she’s trying to understand how to navigate this situation just as much as I am.