Everyone knows that all wolves have soulmates, but some don't know that nymphs are blessed with mates as well. When a nymph meets its mate, its wings sprout for the first time; it's the tell-tale sign for all nymphs.
Except Clarestonia.
Clare's wi...
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"Clare!"
I just wanted to eat lunch. That's it. Is that too much to ask?
I turn and see Wyatt rushing up to me with Maverick trailing behind him. My heart speeds up when I see him. He's trying to hide it, but I can tell he's giddy to see me, too.
"Hey guys," I say smoothly.
Wyatt doesn't waste a breath in asking, "Where's Narissa?" I have hold in a laugh.
"'How are you this morning, Clare?'" I pretend to ask myself, dropping my voice lower to mimick his. "'I'm doing well, thanks, how about you?'" I reply back in and exaggerated tone, clearly now acting as myself. I continue to roleplay, "'I'm okay, I miss my mate, though, do you know where she is?' 'Why, yes, I do, would you like me to take you to her?'"
"Okay, okay," Wyatt groans. "I'm sorry, how are you, Clare?" I giggle and shake my head at him.
"I just told you, silly." He rolls his eyes. "Come on, she's in the Swinnie Field."
I start walking and the two follow me. After a minute, I fall into step beside Maverick and bump his clothed shoulder with mine.
"How are you this morning?" I ask him. He smiles at me before responding.
"Better now."
He finishes his statement with a wink and it takes everything in me not to laugh at the cheesiness. In truth, I love it. It's refreshing to know that he is such a flirt - and so much more open and confident than yesterday. I wonder if he knows he's my mate.
Dear gods, I can't think about that now.
I brush the thought aside and smile at Maverick. "I'm happy to hear that."
We reach the Swinnie Field quickly; I just point Wyatt in Narissa's direction and he runs over to her without a word to Maverick or me. I roll my eyes and watch them attack each other for a second before turning to Maverick.
Here goes nothing.
"I was just going to go eat some lunch at that buffet," I point my thumb in the direction of the restaurant, "are you hungry?"
He looks stunned for a second and appears to think it over. He's quiet for a few moments, leaving me to play with the hem of my shirt while I wait nervously. Why is this such a hard decision for him?
Does he realize how nerve-wracking this is for me? Every ounce of my being is begging him to join me so I can find excuses to touch him. I can't get the desire to feel those damn tingles out of my head.
He appears to snap out of a trance and blushes a bright red. He nods quickly and runs a hand through his hair.
"Sorry, yeah, that sounds great," he says. I hold back a nervous giggle; I don't want him to think I'm laughing at him.
