“Evan?” Nate's voice came from somewhere far away, concern bleeding through the syllables. “What's wrong?”
“Pack emergency.” The words tasted like copper and dread. “I have to go.”
“Then let's go.”
I looked at him, really looked, taking in the stubborn set of his jaw and the way his camera strap had shifted like he was already preparing to move. “Nate, no. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” His chin lifted in that familiar way that meant I was about to lose this argument before it even started.
“Because—” I gestured helplessly at my phone, at the cryptic text that had just upended our quiet evening. “Because this isn't some pack barbecue. Something's wrong. Really wrong.”
“So you're just going to leave me here to what, worry myself sick while you run off into whatever shitstorm is waiting out there?”
“Yes!” The word came out sharper than I'd intended. “That's exactly what I'm going to do. Stay here, Nate. Please.”
He was already shaking his head before I finished speaking. “Not happening.”
“This isn't up for debate?—”
“You're right. It's not.” He slid off the workbench, movements quick and decisive. “I'm coming with you.”
“The hell you are.” I stepped between him and the door, which was probably a mistake because now we were standing close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, could smell his soap and the lingering scent of darkroom chemicals on his clothes. It was distracting in all the worst ways. “My dad said bring no one.”
“Your dad saidyoushouldn't bring anyone. He didn't say anything about me tagging along on my own.”
I stared at him. “That's... that's the most ridiculous argument I've ever heard.”
“Is it working?”
“No!”
“Then I'll try another one.” He crossed his arms, settling in for a fight. “We're together now. That means we face things together.”
“That's not how this works?—”
“That's exactly how this works.” His voice went soft, but there was steel underneath it. “You don't get to protect me by shutting me out, Evan. I won't let you.”
Something hot and frustrated clawed at my chest. “You don't understand?—”
“Then explain it to me. On the way.” He was already reaching for his jacket, the bastard. “Because I'm going with or without you, and it'll be a lot safer if we go together.”
“Nate—”
“Nope.” He pulled on his jacket with infuriating calm. “You can waste time arguing, or you can accept that I'm going tofollow you anyway and probably get lost in the woods and eaten by whatever's out there.”
I wanted to grab him and shake him and maybe kiss him senseless all at the same time. “You're being impossible.”
“I'm being stubborn. There's a difference.” He grinned at me, quick and sharp. “I learned from the best.”
And just like that, I knew I'd lost. Because he was right—he would follow me, with or without permission, and at least if he came with me I could keep an eye on him.
“Fine,” I said, defeat bitter in my mouth. “But you stay behind me. You don't do anything stupid. And if I tell you to run, you fucking run. Understood?”
His grin widened. “Crystal clear.”
I grabbed my keys, already regretting this decision. “I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this.”
“You're not letting me do anything,” Nate said cheerfully, following me toward the door. “I'm just really good at getting my way.”
