Page 69 of Broken-Hearted

She nods. “Everyone jokes that even if there’s nothing to argue about, we’ll find a reason, no matter how small. They don’t know that I sometimes do it on purpose.”

“You find reasons to argue with Nathanon purpose?”

She looks away. “I worried about him a lot. All the rest of us dated, broke up, dated someone else, you know? Nathan never did. For the life and soul of a party, he sure was determined to stay single.”

I study her profile as I recall what Nathan said.

Someone hurt him. It wasn’t intentional, but it still hurt.

“Did he ever have anything with someone?” I ask, watching her closely.

She laughs. “Me.”

“You?”

“We kissed. It was… awkward. Like kissing my brother. He agreed it was awkward, so we just went back to being friends, relieved we both felt the same way.”

“Hallee!” a male voice calls out from the direction of the house. “You ready to go?”

“My mate.” She scrambles to her feet and yells back, “Coming!”

Then, waving, she takes off at a jog.

As I watch her go, I realize what must have happened.

They kissed. He felt something. She did not. And lucky for him, she told him first. I can imagine him faking a smile andagreeing it was awkward as hell, and maybe they should just agree to be friends and forget all about it.

But that isn’t how he felt. Maybe he loved her and that kiss was going to be the start of something special.

He liked her, and she didn’t like him back.

I think about that for a long time.

Then I get to my feet and go inside to rummage around in the refrigerator while I decide what I want to make Nathan for dinner.

Something fancy.

I watch Nathan closely from across the dining table. “It was Hallee, wasn’t it?”

Nathan’s face freezes and his fingers tighten around his fork.

“You fell in love and she didn’t feel the same way back. It was Hallee, wasn’t it?”

“She broke my heart,” he softly admits, all the pain right there to see in his eyes.

I put my fork down, get up and round the table, straddling Nathan. I slide my arms around his shoulders and kiss him.

He’s not smiling as he circles my waist and gently pushes me away. “I don’t want your pity, Clara.”

“This isn’t pity.” I chew on my lip as I try to put into words something I’ve been struggling with for a while now. Something monumental shifted in me a few days ago, and I haven’t wanted to face up to it until now. “When Martha and I lost our pack, nowhere ever felt like home. Martha liked to say I have feet so itchy, it’s like I stepped in poison ivy.”

He gives me a searching look. “And now?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to be with you.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “You hungry?”

I shake my head. “Not really. I ruined dinner.”

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