51. Isabella
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
ISABELLA
Nick’s texts make my cheeks burn so much I swear I’m going to combust at any moment. But the hustle and bustle of the vendors allows me to attempt to distract myself. I can’t focus on the promise of his words or the way I imagine him enjoying the little treat I left for him.
“Oh my God, this place is perfect!” Georgie’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts. The best distraction. “The booths, the decorations, the whole vibe!”
I turn to her, smiling at her outfit. Usually, she’s just in a white tee and jeans, but today she’s got on a gorgeous dark green sweater and tight black pants. “Thank you! Did you find your booth okay?”
Georgie rolls her eyes but gives me a one-armed hug. “Of course. I also brought you some tea.”
I take it from her, affection for my friend threatening to lift my feet right off the ground.
“Before you say anything, yes, it’s on the house,” she says, cocking her hip. “No, you cannot pay for it. Yes, I am the best friend in the whole world. Yes, you need to seek help for your caffeine addiction.”
“You really are, you know—my best friend in the world…” I trail off. The day has left me more emotional than usual, and I’m not sure Georgie signed up for a melodramatic Isabella today.
She gives me another hug, a real one this time, squeezing me extra hard. Almost too hard. “I’ve never had a friend like you, either. Thank God you came here.”
“You’re going to make me cry.” I sniffle lightly.
“Ew. Emotions.” Georgie pulls back, but despite her words, I still notice a little redness around her eyes. “I’m going to keep setting up. People will arrive soon, and where will they be without a hot drink?”
“Hey,” I say as she turns, grasping onto her arm. “Thank you. I really do appreciate you.”
“I appreciate you, too, dummy. Now go organize or whatever it is you do.”
I watch her walk away with a chuckle, noticing how she and Dane nod at each other with that friendly familiarity. Maybe I’ll get to that place with Dane someday.
I slurp down my tea in record time, throwing it into one of the trash receptacles I helped the city set up.
“There you are.”
Nick’s growling rumble travels from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and every single thought I have disappears.
I lean into his body as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. The way his hand splays on my lower belly possessively leaves no room for mistaking it—I’m his.
“Here I am.” My voice is breathier than I’d like—like he’s already won whatever game we’re playing.
He presses a soft kiss to the side of my cheek.
I turn in his arms.
“You know, I’m supposed to be working,” I whisper. “People should be arriving any minute.”
“Okay, okay.” He smiles, gazing at me like I’m the most perfect thing he’s ever seen.
I’ve never felt more stripped bare in my life.
“Mm, I heard rumors you found your mate, Nick.” A man approaches us, older and slightly weathered, with his arm around a woman. “Congratulations.”
My heart skips on the word ‘mate’. Mate? That’s what Dane called me.
What the hell does ‘mate’ mean to these werewolves? And why hasn’t Nick told me himself? And why does Dane seem to know I’m Nick’s mate? And this random man I’ve never met before?
Does everyone know I’m Nick’s mate except for me?
I snap my eyes back to Nick.
Nick, the man who never falters, who stands as still as a statue.
Nick, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.
Nick, who has gone white as a sheet.
He finally coughs, readjusts his stance. “Thank you, Mr. Trembly. It’s nice to see the two of you.”
The older man nods his head, squeezing his arm around the woman I’m assuming is his wife, and walks off toward one of the food stalls. As if he didn’t just drop some sort of weird bomb on us that I don’t fully understand.
What else is Nick keeping from me?
I need to find Georgie. She’ll tell me what’s going on, since apparently Nick has turned into a gargoyle and isn’t capable of movement. His response causes that old friend anxiety to rise in my throat.
I knew he was hiding something from me. I knew it. But what does it mean?
And who else knows about it?
“I have to…” I clear my throat. “Work.”
And Nick doesn’t stop me. He just stands there.