I’m not all that sure she even likes me.
Now, after spending so much of my life alone, I have not one but two perky companions joining me. They both smile and joke with ease and I feel like the weird guy in an anorak watching from the other side of the glass as they mess about inside. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, that of being unwanted or too odd to fit in, but I rarely feel this way in my home.
Fuck, what if she doesn’t like me?
I know many people don’t. Most people, in fact. But I don’t like them either, I don’t care if they do or not; I don’t need them.
I’m not sure I can say the same thing about her.
I’ve only spent a few hours in her presence, trying my best to not come across as a total dickhead. A venture that I seem to be failing at. I don’t know how it’s possible that she’s meant for me. She’s bright and bubbly and fearless; sunshine personified.
I’m… not.
“Let’s go,” I snap from the doorway of Cam’s hut, knowing I sound like an asshole, but the words come out before I can modify my usual tone.
“Where to?” Echo asks brightly. No sign at all that she’s upset by me being a rude prick.
Because she’s not seen you act like anything else. Dammit.
She smiles up at me. Her coat is about three sizes too big for her, this imitation sheepskin thing that falls all the way to her ankles, covering the tight little body I know is hiding underneath.
And now I sound like a creeper even inside my head. What is this woman doing to me?
“Have you eaten breakfast? Do you need anything?” I ask suddenly. I am not a perfect host. It’s not something I’ve ever had to do before.
Perhaps I should have offered her my bed last night rather than leaving her to fend for herself. Presumably she slept in Wren’s bed, but that must have been strange for her.
“I’ve eaten, thanks. Cam’s been great.” She beams at both me and Cam, who gives me a little shrug as if to say, ‘I don’t know what I did that’s so great, I just fed her some toast.’
Seems Echo can be cheerful about just about anything. If it wasn’t starkly obvious yesterday, we could not be two more different people.
“So where to?” she asks brightly.
“Wren had a… friend, Andrew. She visited a lot. Not so much recently, but a few months back she went to see him a couple of times a week at least, or whenever else she could.”
“A friend? Like a boyfriend?”
“I would guess so. I never asked about their relationship,” I tell her awkwardly. I might want to find our missing fate weaver, but that doesn’t mean that we sat down and had cozy chats together. And I really do not want my mate getting the wrong idea about the relationship I shared with Wren. “She always seemed happy to see him, though.”
“They were dating. Or fucking at least,” Brogan says casually as he slides up behind me. “She always smelled like sex on the trip back.”
Huh, sometimes I’m thankful not to have a shifter’s enhanced senses.
“Not that I’m surprised Soren didn’t notice. He’s not exactly used to seeing well satisfied women.” Brogan grins and I roll my eyes. His ribbing about my virgin status means nothing to me. I’ve simply met no one I would want to get that close to.
“Not like you, eh Brogan?”
“Had no complaints, babe.” His grin widens and I want to punch him in the face, especially with how Echo’s smile grows brittle and the air seems to go colder around us. Brogan’s eyes widen where he seems to realize that he’s fucked up by insinuating he’s fucked a load of other women.
To his mate.
Maybe she’s not as immune to us or the bond as I thought.
“How long were they seeing each other?” she asks, seeming to shrug it off after a couple of beats of awkward silence.
“A few months maybe.”
Echo nods like she understands, and I have a sudden spark of panic in my gut. What if she already has a husband or a boyfriend? She clearly can’t feel the threads of the mate bond in the same way that I, and I suspect Brogan, can.
