36 Amanda Mature

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I woke up to the sound of Porter breathing, deep and even. His eyes were closed and his arm rested heavy on my shoulder.

My first instinct was to sneak out and I seriously considered following it considering how emotionally drained I felt. I avoided specific memories of those years like the plague. Remembering even one minute of my life with Steven in it was too much for me.

Porter would definitely be upset if I left like that, though. I didn't want to upset him and not for the same reasons I hadn't wanted to upset my ex. I sighed and shuffled around a bit. If I woke him up first he couldn't complain about me ghosting him later. "Porter?"

He groaned a bit.

"Hey, Porter."

"Amanda," he mumbled my name as his eyes opened and those concerned blue eyes looked at me. My heart skipped a beat like a lovesick puppy jumping up for a treat.

"I think I should go."

"What time is it?" he asked. He wasn't very good at hiding his disappointment.

"I don't know." I felt around for my phone and couldn't find it. "Where's my phone?"

"On the counter still?"

"Guess I should let you go."

"Yeah," I agreed, although I wasn't that enthusiastic about the idea. I didn't want to be here with Porter, but not being here with Porter felt even worse. "Maybe I could stay a little while longer."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Potentially."

He smiled. "I'd like that."

"Fine, but I need to get cleaned up."

I pushed up and away from him. My phone was right where he thought it was, and I wandered down the hall to the bathroom, making myself at home. I found my toothbrush from my forced stay was still in the cabinet, as was the brush I had been using, so I tried to make myself look more presentable with one hand while I checked my phone with the other.

Besides a couple of uninteresting texts I disregarded, Lisa had casually asked me if I was alive. It was from hours ago so I shot back a quick text telling her that I was indeed still breathing. Her response was almost instantaneous.

Lisa: So Porter didn't murder you again? Sweet. If he keeps up this no-murder streak maybe we'll have to start considering him trustworthy or something.

Amanda: Yes, maybe. I'm like 90% sure he's not a murderer.

I was joking, but I wouldn't actually bet money he'd never killed anyone in some werewolf context considering his desire to violently punish Steven, but I doubted he would do it in cold blood purely because he enjoyed it. Was I rationalizing more red flags, or did werewolves have a different morality than humans, or were there times that killing was justified?

Lisa: I'd take those odds. With how hot he is, you can just ignore that last 10%.

And now I was jealous again? Ugh. I was still a conflicted mess, and I was tired of it. I just wanted to have Porter without the complications but all the things I'd been avoiding kept stopping me from moving forward. I wanted to move forward with him. I wanted the normal relationship I was increasingly sure was on the other side of my fears.

Footsteps in the hall preceded a knock on the door. "Do you need a towel? I can go borrow some more of Carrie's clothing for you if you want," he offered.

"I know where the towels are," I reminded him. During my confinement I'd left Kain's and Max's rooms mostly untouched once I'd figured out whose room was whose, but the common areas and Porter's room hadn't gotten that same deference. I'd been through everything thanks to my resentful snooping. I knew what books he read, mostly boring manuals or magazines and some mystery; and that he kept his sock drawer neater than I had expected; and where his condom stash was located.

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