DRAGGING OURSELVES in search of a different form of nourishment, well after eleven, we found Ethan at the kitchen table. He did a double-take when I entered, and I had to suppress my snigger at his expression.
In another set of Sean’s underwear, I peered out the kitchen window, while he filled the kettle.
Spotting Nathan outside, I headed out, stopping a few feet behind when he didn’t turn. “Nathan?”
“Good morning, Jem.”
“I’m sorry I was so rude to you last night.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You weren’t rude.”
“I wasn’t very polite, either,” I said, walking around to face him.
“I never expected you to be made of stone, Jem. I knew I’d get a reaction.”
“Whatever made you think that? I mean, it’s not every day a girl gets told—” Cutting off the rant, I blew out a breath. Some apo
