Page 13 of Finding His Fox

The thought made me grimace. Nate didn't even remember me. How could he, after everything that happened that dreadful afternoon so many years ago?

Perhaps Nate had repressed his memories of that incident. That seemed the most likely explanation.

Who wouldn't, after surviving such a traumatic event?

Still, I couldn't deny that it bothered me a little that Nate didn't remember me at all. Was I truly that forgettable?

What happened after I rescued Nate? I vaguely remembered Nate's fathers searching for us, along with a senior member of the pack.

That selfless human boy and I exchanged names before parting ways.

Years later, I tried to find Nate, but I heard that he had already moved away from Fox Haven.

I didn't blame him, but I couldn't forget how heavy my heart felt. A part of me knew that despite the terrible tragedy that brought us together, I wanted to get to know him better.

Maybe I was lonely. Everyone in the pack had sympathized with me after Shawn's murder.

Even his parents took pity on me, and my grandfather, who raised me, became suddenly overprotective.

Heck, I had almost forgotten about Nate until he showed up in town.

Owen had been a longtime friend of mine. The fact that Nate was Ian's best friend couldn't be a mere coincidence.

For some reason, destiny brought our paths together for the second time. There had to be a good reason for that.

I tore myself away from old memories and parked the truck. We had arrived at the address Nate had mentioned earlier at the party.

Rory Chambers' place.

I knew Rory. He was a decent guy, one of the few humans in town that I actually got along with.

I used to buy my fishing supplies from his family's outdoor store.

Rory also happened to be Nate's cousin. But why wasn't Nate getting out of the truck?

His soft snores filled the car, and I realized he had fallen asleep during the drive.

In his slumber, Nate appeared vulnerable, almost sweet. I reached over, gently shook him, and Nate abruptly sat up, his eyes wide open.

He stared at me for a moment, furrowing his brows as if struggling to place me. Growing impatient, I let out an annoyed growl.

Nate didn't even react to the sound. Was he that intoxicated, or had he tuned out the noise?

"Cal, right?" Nate asked, rubbing his eyes. He flashed me a sheepish smile. "Thanks for the ride."

I thought that would be the end of it, but then Nate leaned in and kissed me on the mouth.

Not just a polite kiss on the cheek, but an intimate one on the lips.

I froze, unsure how to respond. With my appearance, height, and imposing figure, most of the humans in Fox Haven usually kept their distance from me.

There was no trace of fear in Nate's eyes. His breath carried a faint scent of alcohol and tiramisu.

He wasn't completely himself, yet the glazed and fearless look in his eyes drew me in, bringing back memories of that incident by the river all those years ago.

Shawn and I never stood a chance against that wendigo, but then Nate appeared out of nowhere.

Nate was likely terrified himself, but his decisive and quick-thinking actions saved both of us.