Early the next morning, before we return to Hardin, breakfast is a quieter affair in the formal dining room than the last time we were here. At least, my corner of the table is.
I keep my head down and tell myself not to look up even once, to ignore the gaze I can feel on the side of my face. I don't succeed.
Unable to stop myself, I lift my head and catch his eyes.
Right away I can tell Marshall hasn't slept one wink. His eyes are tired and red, and his plate of eggs, bacon, and sausage sits untouched in front of him. Unlike me, he isn't bothering to pretend he's interested in eating since his fork is still on the table beside his plate.
We probably resemble each other with our red-rimmed eyes and disheveled appearance. As far as I can tell, he's still wearing the sweats he was in the other day, but they're looking a little more rumpled, and his hair looks like between not sleeping, he's been raking his hand through it.
I'm luckier since I took off my sweater before crawling into bed, and jeans don't rumple. After I brushed my teeth this morning, I ran a hand through my hair and didn't bother looking for a hairbrush. I know how wild my long wavy hair can get when I don't brush it before bed, so what I lack in disheveled clothes, I know I make up for it with crazy bedhead.
I should probably stay away from mirrors today.
I took one bite of my scrambled eggs before I realized I couldn't swallow it. It didn't matter that I spent all last night crying in bed, ignoring Regan when she came up with lasagna. I wasn't interested in food.
So, for one second that seems to stretch forever, Marshall and I are caught in the trap of each other's eyes. Nothing else matters but him. If I were braver, and if I hadn't made the decision I had, I would've crawled over the table and into his lap so I could bury my face against his throat.
All I want is to feel the coiled strength of his arms wrapped around me, and for us to be together, even though I know it's impossible.
And then the fork slips out of my hand and clashes loudly against my plate, making me jump, reminding me of the world going on around us. It doesn't matter if Marshall would love me forever, I'm not for him. He needs something-someone better.
Seconds after I retrieve my fork and lower my head to my plate, someone shoves their chair back from the table. It isn't hard for me to guess who.
"Marshall!" Dayne snaps.
All conversation halts, and after a long pause, the chair slides back in again. Then, as if nothing happened, as if Marshall wasn't about to round the table and come to me, the threads of conversation are picked up again. I go back to moving cold, congealed eggs and sausage around my white plate without seeing it.
Thankfully, breakfast doesn't go on for much longer than that. After saying a quick goodbye to Jackson, Regan, and their newest pack member, Riley, I leave Regan and Talis whispering to each other with bowed heads and climb into the Blackshaw pack's beta, Luka's car for the long drive back to Hardin.
To my relief, my bag is where I left it, shoved under the driver's seat. I have no idea how much it's going to cost for me to build a new life for myself away from the Blackshaws, but I can't imagine having to spend thousands replacing a lost or stolen laptop and tablet would help.
While everyone says their goodbyes at the front of the house, I rifle through my black messenger bag and pull out my tablet. After powering it up, I spend the next twenty minutes with my stylus in hand, drawing one cute forest creature after another before wiping the screen and starting again. Over and over again.
Soon, Hallee climbs in the seat beside me. She slams her door closed and leans over to peer over my shoulder. "Cute. But the squirrel's always been my favorite."
I wipe the deer from the screen and quickly sketch out a squirrel with big black eyes and rosy cheeks in reds and pinks. Hallee isn't alone in thinking that since I get emails from customers asking for more of Pascal, the cute squirrel, every week.
"You still doing the sticker pack?" Hallee asks as I color the squirrel in before I turn my attention to the forest background.
I nod. "You want one?"
"Yeah. I'm trying out bullet journaling and I'm tired of all the blank pages."
Before I can respond, Nathan tears the passenger door open and throws himself in. "You're supposed to fill the blank pages in with plans for your day, or your week… you know, that kind of thing. Not cute stickers."
"Journals can be filled with stickers as well. Tell him, Jenna," Hallee demands.
I shade in a tree. "Some people like stickers in their journals."
"See! I told you," Hallee says triumphantly.
"I think Jenna means some stickers with their plans for their day, not a journal dedicated to cute stickers. Otherwise, it's not a journal, it's a sticker book."
Despite my low mood, I can't help but smile at Nathan's logic.
No one else can drive Hallee crazy the way Nathan can, and vice versa. They've been at each other's throats for years.
For the longest time, we all thought they were secretly in love with each other because even though they argue all the time, they spend more time with each other than they do anyone else.
They look cute together as well, Hallee with her dark hair and eyes, and Nathan with his autumn fall red hair and laughing green eyes. But nothing ever happened between them. And if something did, it's never affected their strange friendship.
"Nathan-"
Luka's arrival cuts off Hallee's response, and he settles into the driver's seat with a tired sigh. A sigh that makes the dark-haired and amber-eyed beta sound fifty-five instead of twenty-five. "I am not listening to you two argue about sticker books and grass and whether the car ahead was a car or a truck for ten hours. It's not happening."
"Sticker book," Nathan says.
I peek up from my mostly abandoned drawing to find him grinning smugly at Hallee.
"It is not a sticker book," she snaps.
Luka sighs again. "No. Not again. If not for me, think of poor Jenna."
I put my stylus to one side and reach for my earbuds. "Do you want to borrow these?" I offer Luka, briefly meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror as I hold them up.
His eyes fix on the buds in my hands. "Why didn't I think of those?"
"Anyway, I'd have thought you had plenty to fill your journal, what with all of your mysterious disappearing trips to town when no one can find you for hours," Nathan says as he turns to buckle his seatbelt on.
That Hallee doesn't immediately respond with a cutting remark is so unusual that I'm not alone in turning to her.
Her cheeks are red as she fumbles with her seatbelt, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don't know what you're talking about."
When I peek over at Luka, I find he's studying Hallee curiously because it's clear, even to me, that she's hiding something.
The thing is, Nathan is right. When Hallee disappears in town, none of us can find her for hours, and since there's little in Hardin except a few stores, and a diner, if she isn't there or at her place, there's nowhere else she could be.
I take in her mink brown hair and her peaches and cream skin. She's pretty-no, she's beautiful-and if she and Nathan aren't together, then maybe she's seeing someone else.
Only, Regan was fond of complaining about how few single guys there were in Hardin. So few that I can't think of who she would be seeing. Still, it seems a shame that she's single and has no one when any guy would be lucky to have her.
As if Hallee feels my attention, she darts her large brown eyes at me. "What?"
I turn away. "Nothing. Luka, do you want the earbuds?" I offer them to him, but he shakes his head and starts the car.
"I'll be fine. If Nathan proves too much, I'll just throw him out of the car." His voice is so sober that for a second, I believe he'll do it, and then I realize he's joking.
There's no way Luka would do that-Dayne, maybe, but Luka? The calm and patient beta never would.
Though, after the ten-hour drive from Hardin, maybe I shouldn't be so sure because Nathan and Hallee's ceaseless arguments would test anyone's patience after a while. It's the reason I always remember to bring earbuds whenever I have to go anywhere with them.
Not even a minute goes by before they're arguing again. For a second, I meet Luka's eye in the rearview mirror. He looks ready to throw himself out of the car.
I slip my earbuds in and dial the volume up high on a coffee-shop jazz playlist that I have stored on my tablet. Then I get back to drawing as Luka begins the long drive back to Hardin, and Nathan and Hallee argue.
We'll stop a couple of times on the way up for lunch and then dinner, but it'll be hours before our first stop.
Although I know I should use this time to complete my client work, or at least check emails, right now, all I want is to lose myself in drawing because it crowds out all thoughts of Marshall.