Page 17

I huff. "Fine."

"What's wrong with my house?" he asks, his voice edging dangerously close to offense...or hurt.

I internally kick myself. I've unintentionally said something that hurt him again. I can’t seem to avoid it.

"No, Will, your house is lovely."

I consider stopping there, but this isn't the second, or even the third time I've hurt Will because of misunderstandings. So I try a new strategy.

I explain.

"I don't handle change well. I like routine, and when it gets disrupted, I can become quite... unsettled."

"Disrupted like finding your mate and getting cursed?" he asks.

I begin to explain further, but when I look at him, his expression is less shuttered than before.

"Are you teasing me?" I ask.

Will winks at me, and my heart starts beating twice as fast as usual.

"Maybe a little," he admits, opening my door and stepping inside.

"Oh."

A smile spreads across my face as awareness climbs up my neck.

My home, which I've always been proud of, suddenly feels a bit cold with Willoughby's bright clothes and soft eyes inside it. Everything's a bit too hard, and I wonder what I was thinking, suggesting a man as soft and lovely as him sleep in a house as frigid and sharp as mine.

"I need to get some clothes and Morty's food."

"Morty's food?" Will asks.

"Well, he can technically be here alone, but he'd miss me. He'll likely follow us over anyway."

Will nods, his lips pressed together, and I suspect he's trying very hard to be accommodating since we're staying at his house.

"I'll get the cat food if you tell me where it is. You can go pack," he offers.

It's such a silly, small gesture, but the care behind it feels real.

"Thank you, Will."

He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck. He's so beautiful, and I'll be sleeping under the same roof as him tonight.

I am so screwed.

Willoughby

"Randy, your house is right next door," I grumble. At most, I thought he'd bring a small knapsack. Not the three-piece luggage set sitting in front of me. "We can come back here at any time."

He looks around as if recognizing the excessive amount of suitcases for the first time and has the good sense to blush.

I can practically see him veering toward his usual defensiveness.

But then... he pauses, gazes at the luggage again, looks back at me and sighs.

"I thought it would be a good idea. So we wouldn't have to keep going back and forth. I don't want to keep bothering you every time I need something."