Page 52 of Plus-Size Bullied Mate

“I know.”

And I do know. Last night confirmed that, given how easily they included me, they required nothing specific from me in return. They didn’t act like most in the pack would around me.

“Can I say something?” Naia asks after a moment.

“You’ve been building to it.”

She huffs out a small and genuine laugh.

“Don’t lose the part of you that knows what happened,” she says, turning the mug in her hands. “I mean it. The instinct to protect yourself, the list of what went wrong, and every way you’ve had to shape your life since, those aren’t weaknesses. It’s information that you got from somewhere real. But there’s a difference between using it to protect yourself, and letting it stop you from having anything worthwhile.”

While her words sink in, I don’t say anything.

“I stayed outside for a long time,” she says, quieter. “I kept one foot out and told myself I was being smart and careful. And some of that was true, but I also didn’t see how much it was making me resist the very person who cared the most.”

The woods around us feel still now, almost like the world is forcing me to focus on this very moment.

Naia takes a deep breath. “Hunter looked at you last night, and I don’t know how to describe it except to say he wasn’t performing it. Even someone like him couldn’t fake that.”

Before I can stop myself, I think about the edge of the bed last night, and how he was trying to check in with me. How he wanted to kiss me, genuinely, but I turned it down.

My chest tightens, and I urge myself to speak.

“I can see that he means well,” I begin carefully, struggling to admit it out loud. “But it doesn’t change what happened before.”

“You’re right,” she agrees with a small nod. “It doesn’t automatically change anything. Meaning well and having done the work are different things, and only you know how much work is still needed.”

Hearing that from someone outside the situation is more vindicating than I expected, and I find myself leaning towards it more than I thought I would.

“I’m not telling you to blindly trust him, but I am advising against deciding in advance that it’s impossible. For as infuriating as Hunter and the guys can be, they aren’t bad people.”

The distinction settles in my chest and doesn’t immediately dissolve, which has to count for something.

“Zane was unbearably reserved when I reunited with him,” she says, and the admiration in her voice when she says it is so genuine that it catches me off guard. “I mean that lovingly… he was so stern and closed off. He had no idea what he was doing emotionally, and I was furious with him for a long time. I was right to be until he proved that he could be vulnerable and honest with me.”

“And here you are,” I say, able to see the connection between the two of them so clearly.

“Here we are,” she repeats with a smile.

We stay outside until the others start trickling out, and the conversation becomes more relaxed as Lila and Sera join us.

Dominic is busy texting someone while Zane and Caleb take in what remains of the sun with unreadable expressions. Luke and Sera talk briefly about their little one, checking in with whoever’s watching her. They both look anxious to get back despite enjoying their short time away.

Eventually, everyone stops shielding their eyes as the sun disappears behind a heavy mass of clouds that seems to take over completely.

By the time the wind picks up a bit more and a very telling darkness settles in, Hunter returns from his perimeter check.

He finds me first in the group, looking me over briefly as if checking to make sure I’m alright.

It’s subtle, but enough to make my stomach squirm.

“There’s a storm coming,” Caleb says, still looking at the sky. Given the more serious expression on his face, he can feel that it won’t be just a quick shower. “And a good size one, from the feel of it.”

The temperature has dropped what feels like several degrees since the others joined me, and I really notice it now.

The quality of the air feels heavier and almost charged, like it’s waiting for the chance to finally break.

“How long?” Hunter asks, crossing his arms as he takes a closer look, too.