I can’t remember a moment in my life when I felt more uncomfortable.

Well, except for that rejection part.

Okay. Forget that. But this is flipping awkward.

As I climb the stairs to my room with my new companion, he takes his time to look at everything. And even if his stoic face is stuck in a frown, I can still get that he’s genuinely interested in how his mate is living.

Stupid mate bond.

“This is my room,” I say, feeling a bit nervous as I open the door to my bedroom for him to enter.

Choosing not to close it all the way, I feel his disappointment washing...