Page 7 of Beary Mated Christmas

I was such a liar. I needed the fresh air. I needed not to breathe in his peppermint-chocolate yumminess. It was getting my bear too close to the surface, and I needed to stay in control. Because as much as it was for the best for us not to be in this space together, now that he was here…I never wanted him to leave.

I grabbed some ground beef out of the fridge and added some chopped onions and a couple of tablespoons of butter in a pan, letting the onions caramelize. I wasn’t even sure what I was making, but once those onions started cooking, the smell would take over and I’d get some relief.

When they were nice and brown, I added the ground beef as well as a good shake of everything-you-could-possibly-want spice blend from my local grocery store and then dug around to figure out where to go from there. It ended up being pasta.

No one would look at the dinner and think it was well planned or executed, but it was filling and warm, and Abel told me more than once how delicious it was. I wasn’t sure if he was being polite or if he meant it, but, either way, it made me happy. And my bear? He puffed up with pride over providing for our omega. Only he wasn’t ours, something my bear never accepted. I wasn’t sure I did, either.

“You cooked. I’ll get the dishes.” Once upon a time, we would have done them together.

My mom said that he was the best dish dryer there ever was. But today, getting away would be good. He must’ve felt it too if he offered to do them instead of offering to help like he’d done so many times before.

So while he washed the dishes, I popped into the bathroom for a shower, the scents of the shampoo and soap helping meclear my head. My brain worked enough to realize that we had one bed and one couch. And it was debatable on whether it was truly a couch and not a glorified love seat.

I’d offer him the bed, of course. Worst-case scenario, if the couch was too crowded, I could sneak out and go sleep in my fur. Problem solved.

Not wanting to take all the hot water, I got out of the shower sooner than I wanted to. I threw on some sweats and a shirt before leaving the bathroom. It was weird getting dressed in the steam-filled room.

Back when we were younger, we’d come out in our towels and just toss on our clothes. It was normal. Not to mention the numerous times we got changed in gym class together, along with every other person our age. But now, it felt too exposed.

As much as things stayed the same, they were also so very different.

When I opened the door to step out, Abel was reading again.

“Bathroom’s yours, if you need it.”

He gave a nod and headed in, and, as he was there, I looked around to try to find some extra blankets. There were none. Probably should have held off on that shower, because it looked like fur time.

“So, we have a problem.” I bombarded him the second he came out, dressed in his jams. Christmas jams at that. There was no escaping the holiday. Only with him here, maybe I didn’t mind so much. “We only have one bed, and the couch is not a sleeper sofa or sofa size.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll sleep on the floor, or if the couch is too short—”

“The thing is, there’s no extra blankets either.”

Why was I feeling guilty? I wasn’t the one who allowed the double-booking. It said the room was vacant and allowed me toget the reservation. He had this booked for a year, though. So I guessed it was my fault in a way.

“We can share the bed. How many times have we done that?” I wanted to suck the words back in. How could I handle being so close to him all night, knowing he’d never be mine?

He looked from the bed to me to the bed again. We did have a lot of sleepovers, that part was true. But none after our first shift.

“Yeah, okay,” he finally said, his words not overly confident.

We climbed into bed, turned the light off, both of us stiff on our own sides. Abel fell asleep first, and I listened to his breathing…counting his breaths, trying not to get lost in his scent.

And I was just about asleep when I heard my name. And again. And again. I wanted to wake him up to tell him it would be okay, but he kept calling me, like I was far away and he couldn’t reach me. Despair seeped in deeper with each mention of my name.

I was about to cave and wake him when he rolled over, his arm and leg landing over me, snuggling in close.

It was gonna be a long fucking night, that was for sure—but I was finding it hard to care. Not when Abel was here, snuggling me.

Maybe I could pretend he was mine just for the night.

He’d never have to know.

Chapter Six

Abel

Denali invaded my dreams. Not in a bad way. Curled up under the mountain of comforters and blankets, even in sleep some part of me remained aware of my friend’s presence. Unfortunately, that part of me did not think “friend” when it set up the scenario in which I spent however long a dream lasts in real life.