Arielle
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed this much.
Not the polite laugh I gave pack members when they told me a joke.
Not the small smile I forced when someone asked if I was okay.
A real laugh.
The kind that made my cheeks hurt.
The kind that made my stomach ache.
The kind that made me forget, even for a few minutes, that my life had fallen apart.
And somehow, this man was responsible for most of it.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, laughing as we stood near the dance floor.
He looked completely innocent.
“What?”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I swear it’s true.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
He placed a hand over his heart.
“I’m wounded.”
I laughed again.
He grinned.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That laugh.”
I felt heat rush into my cheeks.
“What about it?”
