Page 12 of Bear With Me

Bjorn hadn’t actually expected that to work, so it took him a second to catch up. “Metro DC? So, Virginia?” Best to keep him talking now that he’d started. He also didn’t release his hand, choosing to instead drag it up his chest toward his face.

Dennis blinked again, gaze focused on their hands as they moved up. “What?”

“Do you live in Virginia?” Bjorn prompted patiently, then brushed his lips over the back of Dennis’s hand. Dennis shuddered visibly. Washington, DC wasn’t terribly far from Bjorn’s home in West Virginia. Half a day’s drive, at worst. He could make that work.

Dennis licked his lips, appearing hypnotized. “Maryland.”

“Ahh.” It amounted to the same thing, still being DC metro. “And the name of your pub?” he tried, pressing his advantage.

“The -” Dennis’s eyes snapped up to his and he tried to yank his hand away, only to be thwarted by Bjorn’s tight grip. “I thought you said you weren’t going to stalk me.”

Bjorn kissed his hand again, even more gently. “Just making conversation.”

Dennis snorted. “Yeah, right. Give me back my hand,” he said, yanking. Reluctantly, Bjorn released his grip. Dennis pulled his hand against his chest and rubbed it as if he’d been burned. “I’m not giving you my personal information.”

Suppressing a sigh at the broken moment, Bjorn set about gathering up their plates and carrying them to the sink to rinse, then loading them into the dishwasher. Take heart, he told himself. He’s starting to open up. By the time he turned back to Dennis, the other man had left the kitchen and was pawing through his own suitcase.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Dennis informed him, surfacing from the suitcase with a change of clothes in his hands. “And no, you are not invited,” he added before Bjorn could offer.

Bjorn frowned dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

“Not a bit,” Dennis agreed. “See you in ten minutes.” And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom.

Bjorn sighed and leaned back against the counter. He supposed he couldn’t blame Dennis for not wanting a virtual stranger to shower with him, but the mate pull was no joke. Was Dennis not feeling it, or was he just fighting it?

Deciding to distract himself, he crossed the room to where he’d plugged in his phone the previous night. He unplugged the device and started checking his notifications. Facebook post by a friend…new music had dropped on Spotify…texts from two friends…

Wait, a text and a phone call from Escalus? What the fuck? The den alpha rarely communicated with him at all, given that he no longer lived in the den, and when he did it was with short, authority-laden texts. He checked the text first.

Escalus: Check your fucking messages, you prick!

Well, that was uninformative. With a sigh, he opened his voicemail app and played the message.

Figures you can’t be assed to answer your damn phone, Bjorn. It’s Tuesday morning, 8:30am and apparently you’re sleeping late or some shit, so I’m leaving a message. You need to come home. Now. Your grandma’s sick. They’re not sure what’s wrong yet, but it doesn’t look good. She’s asking for you. Come the fuck home. Call me back asap and tell me when to expect you.

His grandmother? His sweet, elderly grandmother, who’d always been in perfect health? Fuck, fuck, fuck! Bjorn had talked to her last week and she’d been fine. She’s always supported him living his life apart from the den if that was what made him happy, even as his parents had lobbied hard for him to stay. They had wanted a strong son who got involved in den politics. Gran had just…wanted him to be happy.

He realized he was standing there, clutching his phone and hyperventilating. He focused, trying to steady his breaths, but now he was shaking, too. How could Gran be sick?!

The den was practically on the other side of the country, in South Dakota. Too far to drive and get there in any sort of timely manner. He’d have to get a flight, and…no, shit, he couldn’t fly if he couldn’t control his shift. People were relatively cool with shifters in their midst, but those tiny airplane seats wouldn’t hold a bear his size, even if his seat neighbors didn’t lose their shit at the sight. Fuck! He slammed the fist not holding his phone down on the end table.

Ok. Ok. So he’d have to drive, after all. What did he need to do? He’d need to pack up the few things he’d unpacked so far, then gas up the car…no, wait, first he needed to call Escalus. Maybe Gran was feeling better and this wasn’t such a dire emergency. Still shaking, he raised his phone to his face and hit the redial button.

“Yeah?” came Escalus’s always-cranky voice.

“Alpha,” Bjorn managed to get out, though his throat felt like it was mostly closed. “Gran?”

“Ahh. Hello, Bjorn. Nice of you to join the land of the living. Your Gran is not doing well. You need to come home. When can you get here?”

Bjorn gulped and tried to clear his throat. “I…it’s going to take a while. I have to drive.” God, why had this all happened at the worst possible time?

“Drive?” Escalus exclaimed. “I just told you your grandmother might be dying, Bjorn. Get on a fucking plane!”

“I…I can’t. I can’t control my shift. I…uh, I met my mate.”

There was a long moment of silence, then: “And why haven’t you claimed them and regained your shift?”

Bjorn sighed. “It’s kind of a long story. But I can’t get on a plane like this.”