Page 12 of Iced Out Mate

But… “Hold up,” I told Miles. He waited for me as I ducked back inside and went to the hostess.

“Hey,” I said, pulling out my wallet. “Can I pay for that couple’s meal out there? Yeah, the ones laughing.”

“Of course.” The hostess took my card and ran it for the table. She thanked me and handed it back. “Want me to tell them anything?”

“Just to, uh, keep on laughing… and living”—don’t say it—“and loving.”

The hostess cracked up at that. “I’ll pass along the message.”

I thanked her and went out to meet Miles. “Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just covered that couple’s bill.”

“You did?” He sounded impressed.

“You said they were fans. I figured it’d be nice, even though their witchy laughing was annoying the fuck out of me.” I smiled at Miles and winked at him. “Come on, let’s go to that spot I was talking about.”

We crossed the cobblestone path winding through the small garden until it met the sidewalk. We were close to downtown, but instead of taking a left and walking into the heart of it, I led us to the right. We walked past a local bookstore that primarily stocked romance novels, a small bakery with a mouth-watering window display of colorful tarts and cakes, an Irish pub with some of the best chicken wings I’d ever had, and finally, an ice cream shop that filled the air with the sweet scent of vanilla.

The tree-lined entrance to the park was tucked away from most foot traffic, marked by a dark blue picket fence. A sign at the entrance displayed a tiny map of the looping path that circled the small man-made lake. There were only three parking spaces, and all of them were empty.

“This a little better?” I asked him as we entered the park. As I expected, we were the only two people walking down the trail. Burlington had many outdoor spaces that people typically flocked to that were larger and more scenic than this random gem I’d stumbled across. This park felt more like a well-kept secret than a public destination and I was totally good with that.

Apparently, so was Miles. “Yeah, this is great. Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Of course. It’s a chill spot. I like coming here before games sometimes. Gets me in a good headspace.”

“I can see why.” Miles looked out at the glimmering, placid lake, its surface only occasionally broken by a curious fish swimming up to snack on a mosquito or beetle. “So, I guess I should start at the end, huh?”

“Sounds about the best place to start.”

He offered me a half-cocked grin. I could tell Miles wasn’t one to flash toothy smiles all the time. He struck me as someone who was reserved with his emotions. Not detached from them, but had them under constant watch. He didn’t appear very prickly or walled-off from the few interactions I’d had with him, but there was an ice there that might be difficult to break.

“I just got a text from my stalker.”

My eyebrows rose so fast, I was sure they made the sound of spinning tires screeching on the street.

Then a honk from somewhere nearby made me realize it wasn’t me, but just someone narrowly avoiding an accident.

I froze mid-step and turned to him. “Jesus… Miles, wow. What the hell?” He’d quite literally left me speechless. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting him to say, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“Yeah, so that’s the most recent development. Part of the reason I took this job was for a chance to move away, hoping I could shake off whoever is stalking me. I don’t have any sort of online presence and took a whole fuck-ton of measures to try and get this person off my trail.” Miles shook his head. “None of it worked. They found me.”

A chill rippled down my back. Miles was clearly shaken by this, and if something could shake a shifter, it was something worth fearing.

Miles let out a sigh and continued down the path. “I’ve tried everything to track this person down. Used legal means and went rogue in other ways. I’d spend days in my wolf form, trying to track down some scent or trail. And that was very dangerous with how populated Philly is, but I’d keep to the suburbs. I’d double back on my own trail, hoping to pick up a scent from someone following me, keeping watch on me. But found nothing.” He slipped two fingers through his gold necklace and ran them back and forth. “It makes no sense to me. I’m not great at making new friends so I keep my social circle small. Emmy’s basically my only friend—my only best friend, at least. I’ve only dated two guys before and both of those ended on good terms years ago. I don’t know how I could have drawn in a stalker like this.”

“Wait, do they know you’re a shifter?”

Miles nodded. “It was one of the first things they said in a handwritten letter they wrote and left in my bedroom.”

The chill intensified to what felt like an army of ants crawling over my shoulders and down my spine. I tried to shake off the invisible fuckers. I slowed and motioned toward a bench that was tucked away inside a copse of thick oak trees. A squirrel sitting on the back of the bench stopped grooming itself and leaped off, its tiny claws scratching over the bark as it disappeared. Besides the squirrel, it was just us out here, and the wall of trees gave us a good amount of privacy.

“That’s really messed up. Fuck, Miles.” I sat down on the bench.

“It has not been ideal, to put it lightly.”

“Are they just, like, in love with you?” Even saying that out loud felt weird. Suggesting anything about love or love-adjacent next to my fated mate felt equal parts natural and extremely vulnerable. It was premature, even though I wasn’t directing the word at him. Another emotion—and one that was way more surprising and slightly upsetting—was a pang of jealousy. That was odd. I’d never been the jealous type, not with any of my previous relationships, and that extended from romantic to platonic. I knew people who’d get jealous of their friends hanging out with another group, or talking about a new acquaintance. Not me, though. I’d been immune to the bite of that obnoxious green snake.