Chapter Eight

Kirk

It was a good thing that Mercy of Frost didn't put a limit on the amount of time their staff received off for their mating moons because I never liked to rush good things and Chasten quickly became the best part of my life. Even as we drove each other crazy as we settled in together. I was more of a ‘neat freak' than he ever imagined a man to be and he left wet towels on the bathroom floor. I didn't mind going behind him and picking stuff up because I learned in college – the first go round – that the person who most enjoys a tidy home ends up doing most of the work or arguing until they're blue in the face. I didn't want to argue with Chasten and it didn't take long to toss a wet towel in the hamper or over the towel bar.

The day after I ‘moved in' with him my roommate had already found another nurse looking for a place to rent. He crashed on the sofa the first night I spent at Chasten's. That night might've been the night we exchanged our claiming vows but when it came time to check Chasten's glucose levels he got a bit green about it. He'd done fine with it the first time on his own but sometimes irrational fears came in waves. I checked it for him, and he spent the rest of the night apologizing for not being able to do it himself. I didn't tell him, but I was just glad it was in a healthy range and he was upright.

The next morning after breakfast (I didn't entice Chasten to jack off while I cooked this time) we headed over and packed up what few belongings were actually mine. The place came furnished and I considered myself a minimalist more or less. I had some clothes – mostly scrubs for work, a few items from my childhood, some books and my ski equipment. While we packed up and cleaned the room for the next inhabitant Chasten remarked about how tidy both my roommate and I were.

"It helps that we both work a lot. You can do that when you're single and all," I shrugged as I grabbed my coffee mugs, rice maker, and knife set from the kitchen. "Wait do you have a rice maker?"

"Yeah," Chasten nodded.

"Eh, I'll leave this one for them then. No need to have one floating around in a cabinet for the next decade not getting used," I said and sat it back in the spot it had lived for the last few years.

I opened the fridge to double-check that there wasn't anything I really wanted left behind. Nothing in there wasn't replaceable so I left what little groceries I kept in the house behind too. At Chasten's we had a fully stocked kitchen. So, I wouldn't miss anything I left behind. With my few totes loaded into the back of the truck we headed home.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Chasten as we pulled out of the driveway.

"Are you going to ask me that forever?"

"Probably. Not just because you fainted, but because I want to know how you're feeling," I shrugged.

"We need the claiming vows, don't we?"

"Do you want them?" I asked him.

"More than anything," he nodded, glancing at me.

I kept my eyes on the road so I wasn't overly distracted by him. Safety first. Even if my wolf was nuzzling against my ribs in an attempt to reach the wolf within Chasten.

He flinched as his phone vibrated inside his pocket.

"That's probably Grina or Treg," he shrugged.

"You can answer it. You probably should. You're pretty close with them, huh?"

"Yeah," Chasten nodded. "We're all close. I just--- I don't know how much I'm ready to share with them about everything."

"You don't owe them your private medical information. You don't owe anyone that. You can talk to them without giving them that. Well, if they're good friends you can. They might ask but you can always let them know you're not ready to talk about it."

"I don't want them trying to boss me around with food," Chasten scrunched up his nose.

"Sorry about that. I know that I'm not the best at minding my own business when it comes to that arena," I said, feeling sheepish.

"At least you have some professional medical knowledge behind it. They're artists like me," Chasten said. "It's not just you or them I'm worried about. It's everyone. My carrier was diabetic. Everyone had an opinion on the best way to eat or what to eat to make it go away forever or what you could absolutely never eat."

"Well, tell them to shut the fuck up if they start that shit. Nutrition may be a science but it's not that cut and dry. Bodies react differently to food because there are a million different variables and not even all of them, we know about. I'm more worried about making sure you eat something and don't skip that many meals since that's what made you faint."

Chasten sighed and leaned his head against the window. Faint. He hated that word.

"Swooned?" I tried.

"Isn't swooning supposed to be romantic?" he managed a quiet laugh.

"I'm not sure," I shrugged. "I think it just means to swoon."

"Sounds like some southern gothic stuff. ‘Oh, my lawdy! Judas on a biscuit! I was swoonin' all over the fall fair, y'all.'"

"I'm not going to lie. That sounds adorable," I said. "The festival's still ongoing, right?"

"Yeah," Chasten nodded. "All week."

"We could give it another go. This time I'll remind you to eat."

"I bet that's where they're at. Treg and Grina."

"Wanna find out?" I asked him.

His scent perked up.

"Will your stuff be alright back there?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's just stuff. Nothing perishable."

"Alright. If you want to."

"I haven't been to one of them since I was a kid. Might be nice to see what they do now."