Page 74 of Burning Embers

You probably won’t even see her. You got this. You’re a strong, independent man who?—

The front door swings open, and I screech louder than a motherfucking banshee. I bring a hand to my chest in a desperate attempt to calm my rampant heart.

Hale stands in the doorway, looking amused, his arms crossed over his chest and one brow cocked.

“Um…hello.” I give an awkward wave and then, just because I can, theStar TrekVulcan salute.

Oh. My. God.

I somehow bypassed “sexy nerd” and went straight to “super nerd who will live in his parents’ basement with cats forever.”

“I heard you pacing for a good fifteen minutes.” Hale’s lips twitch upwards in a microscopic smile. “Everything okay?”

I shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and then rock back on my heels. This is the third time I changed clothes today, but I wanted to look nice, on the off chance that I do run into Izzy. My jeans have been freshly plucked from the dryer and do great things for my ass.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know how pathetic I sound.

But girls aren’t the only ones who are self-conscious about their bodies.

I threw on a gray T-shirt and a plaid long-sleeve, currently unbuttoned. It hides my tattoos, but I found that girls really, really like it when I roll up the sleeves of my shirt to reveal my forearms. It’s the equivalent of female cleavage.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m attempting to make myself a little slutty to capture Izzy’s attention. I almost pulled out the gray sweatpants but worried that would be trying too hard.

Next time, Ethan.

“Are you here to see Jake or Izzy?” Hale continues to offer me an amused, knowing smirk that makes my skin itch.

Or maybe that’s just an anxious rash. Do wolves even get rashes?

“Iz— Jake,” I blurt, forking my fingers through my golden hair. “We’re here to play games.”

Hale’s smile broadens at my obvious fumble, but he moves to step aside, allowing me entrance.

It’s pretty uncommon for wolves to visit the homes of other wolves not in their pack. It’s a territory thing—probably something to do with scents.

But Hale and his partner, Gerry, have always been cool about allowing the four of us to visit their home. We used to come over all the time to watch games on TV and just chat, even before they began fostering children. Rumor has it that Gerry and Hale used to have a third member in their pack, but no one knows any more about it. He or she probably passed away long before they moved here.

Gerry’s been away on Council business the last few weeks, and I can’t imagine how badly Hale must be missing him, and vice versa. Fated mates are almost always inseparable, especially once the bond has been completed.

“Are you staying for dessert, Ethan? We already had dinner, but I plan to whip up something special in a little bit to celebrateIzzy’s first day of school,” Hale says kindly as he guides me down the hall, towards where I know the game room will be.

He doesn’t need to. I’ve been to his house enough times to know where it is.

Yet I get the distinct impression he wants to ask me something.

Something more personal than, “Are you staying for dessert, Ethan?”

My heart catapults into my throat and becomes lodged there, this huge, fleshy ball that makes swallowing virtually impossible.

Does he know about Izzy?

Is that what he wants to talk to me about?

Hell, is that why he agreed to foster her in the first place?

But no…that’s impossible. Nobody has the power to predict mates or see mating bonds, except for maybe Desiree, who’s been gifted with premonition.

My hands are sweaty by my sides, and I hastily scrub them on my jeans.