Page 25 of Bear's Midlife Surprise

“You’re not a prisoner,” Sam confirmed. “I’m sorry if you thought that’s what this meeting was about. It’s not. We just want to make sure you’re okay after what you saw and what you now know. It’s a lot to take in.”

“And I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything rash to Tavish for accidentally exposing himself to an outsider,” January continued.

Sam cleared his throat. He shifted on the couch, clearly uncomfortable with that direction of thought. “No. We don’t punish people here. Especially not for accidents. We like to guide people more constructively towards behavior that helps us as a whole and provide the support or whatever else they need to get there. Being a shifter doesn’t mean perfection. We’re just so glad that no one else witnessed anything.”

“There’s also the fact that Sam and I are best friends,” Tavish insisted. “I promised that nothing bad would happen today. You came because you gave your word, but I was hoping you came because you wanted to, and you didn’t feel obligated.” Tavish was still rolling her words around in his head, while she’d started out by saying that she was worried about being held prisoner, she’d just come out and asked his alpha whether he’d get punished for revealing himself.She was worried about him… Did that mean she felt something for him as well?

“It’s not that I didn’t want to. It’s more that I was thinking about this all night and I’m not ready to get into a relationship or whatever this is right now.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything about being mates,” Tavish groaned. He clapped his hands onto his knees. “I didn’t do a good job explaining what that really is.”

“I was worried about it, but Lily filled me in. She said you could be mates and exist in different parts of the world.”

“Yes. But I was hoping that you—”

“Would stay? That’s not in my plan. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to lead you on when I agreed to that date. Half of it was my sister, and half of it was me wanting to go. But I don’t want to jump right into another relationship so soon after my divorce, especially not one of this seriousness. I don’t want to move here. Most of my family lives in Phoenix. I’m happy there. I know that June probably said something else, about how you could convince me to stay here, but I really just don’t want to. I like my life. I miss my life.”

A shadow crossed over her eyes. It made Tavish think that she wasn’t telling him everything, or that she didn’t fully believe everything she was saying. Maybe she did miss her family, but maybe she wasn’t all that satisfied with her life the way it was.

His whole body started to tingle. It was like every limb had gone to sleep at once. It wasn’t a good feeling. His gut didn’t feel good either and his chest was heavy. It felt a lot like drowning. As if he’d been turfed overboard and was sinking into the black depths of a watery grave because he couldn’t swim.

“That’s fair enough,” Sam said. He took over where Tavish couldn’t. “You’re free to make your own decisions. We’re here to support you in whatever you choose.”

“I can’t just, come here, stay here, be a part of this because I found out. That’s not what I want.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want cookies and tea?” Lily asked. “I pushed back my class from this morning to after lunch so that I could be here. I thought you’d be more comfortable to have another woman here. Someone who could offer a unique perspective on what you’re going through, given that I went through pretty much the same kind of process. Not the same, but similar. Anyway. I made cookies before you got here. Can I tempt you with chocolate chip goodness?”

January hesitated. Something flashed in her eyes again and her lips quirked at the edges. Maybe the normality of Lily’s gesture had come at the right time, Tavish noticed she kept getting a deer in headlights look about her and he desperately wanted to offer some comfort—but given he was the cause of her unease maybe it was better to leave it to Lily and her cookies. Though almost as soon as the softening in her expression occurred she seemed to shove it away and get her game face back on, which was mostly her looking stern and unmoved. “That would be great. Thank you.”

She was being polite, but it seemed like a small win.

Tavish could understand that she’d spent all night thinking and overthinking. He could see that what she felt now wasn’t the same as what she’d felt in the truck. She’d come to some sort of conclusion or solution that involved her leaving, getting as far away from him as she could. She didn’t want to necessarily shut him out, she just wanted her own freedom. He couldn’t fault her for that.

And yet, it still made every part of his body hurt.

“I’m sorry that I blurted out the mates thing. I’m just not used to keeping anything inside.”

“Tavish is the most open, big-hearted person I know,” Sam agreed. “He does have a filter, but he wears all the important stuff on his sleeve and puts the rest out there. As a good friend, I appreciate his honesty.”

“But there’s a time and a place,” Tavish quickly added when January tensed. It looked like she wanted to spring up and bolt.

He was always honest, and he did have trouble keeping his innermost thoughts, if they were important, from the important people in his life. That had always been true. In Greenacre, it was always a blessing and never curse. In the outside world? It hadn’t been the right time. He saw that now. He knew it as soon as he’d said it, but it was like the words took on a life of their own and flowed out before he could stop them. Maybe it had been the thought of her leaving and returning to Phoenix? If she’d been closer, then maybe he wouldn’t have had the urge to tell her so soon. But the thought of her upping and heading off to the other end of the country was unbearable, and if she was his mate then he wanted her to know—neededher to know. Then he’d had the painfully awkward task of trying to explain a concept that the whole clan was still muddling through and trying to make a definition for.

It was different for everyone, he was sure, but main commonality with taking mates—at least where Sam, Trace, and Thaddius were concerned, was that the knowledge of the connection was immediate.

He used his better judgement now and kept just how much January’s leaving would hurt him hidden deep inside. Not only was grief a private burden, never able to be put adequately into words, writing, or any other medium, but she wouldn’t be receptive. She would think he was telling her that she couldn’t go.

Lily swept in with a big plate full of cookies. “I’ll just leave these right here and get the tea.”

“Let me help,” Sam said, leaping up.

“I’m okay.” She shooed him off, but the smile she gave him was unmistakable.

“Oh, I insist. That teapot is probably heavy.”

“It is, because it’s the kettle with hot water. The teapot is on a separate tray. It’s easier in the kitchen, but we don’t need to move in there.”

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