Page 118 of The Unlikely Pair

We’re quiet. There’s none of our usual banter lobbing between us.

Harry knows to let the silence settle, that I need time in my thoughts, so he doesn’t disturb me.

Because he knows me.

He knows me better than anyone has ever known me.

I stumble when I realize this, and Harry’s hand immediately reaches out to stabilize me.

All my deep, dark crevasses no one has ever seen, Harry has seen them all. He’s seen me hungry, he’s seen me tired, he’s seen me scared, he’s seen me hurt.

And I know Harry back the same way.

I’ve always held myself back from falling in love because I absorbed the lesson from my mother. Love hurts. Love can shred you to pieces and leave you diminished and broken. You can’t trust the person you love to be there when you need them.

“You never let me in, Toby. You never let me see the real you. You never let yourself rely on me like most people do in a couple,” my ex-girlfriend Kara had informed me a few years ago as she packed her bags, and I couldn’t deny the truth in her words.

I had a close friendship with Oliver, yes, but when I examined it, most of our friendship dynamic was me providing support for Oliver.

I never leaned on him the way I’ve found myself leaning on Harry.

But with Harry, I’ve had to. I wouldn’t have been able to survive out here without Harry.

Is that what has me so confused? Are these feelings actually real? Or are they simply an artifact of the situation we’ve found ourselves in?

I glance at Harry now, trying to see him how I used to. Harry, the pompous leader of the Conservative Party. My political enemy. The man who stood for everything I disagreed with. The unflappable, arrogant arsehole.

But I can’t see that man anymore. Instead, I see Harry, the man who saved my life multiple times, who looks out for me and cares for me in so many small ways, the man who kisses me like his very existence depends on how thoroughly he can explore my mouth.

The man who has now come to an abrupt stop, his forehead wrinkling.

That one little wrinkle on his forehead has me stopping too.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Something’s wrong,” he says.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Harry

“What do you mean something’s wrong?”

I find myself at a loss to explain it. I just know something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones.

The air is silent, still. Unnaturally so.

“All the birds have stopped chirping,” I say, finally identifying what’s different.

Toby’s eyes widen as he comes to the same realization.

Something has disturbed the wildlife.

A chill runs down my spine. Surely it can’t be Kade and his companions after all this time?

Silently, I motion for Toby to follow me as I veer off the path leading back to our cabin. He falls in step behind me without question.

We creep through the trees, straining to pick up any sounds or signs of trouble. That’s when I spot it—a broken branch on one of the saplings. Someone or something has passed through here recently.