Real Men Don't Break Hearts

Real Men Don't Break Hearts by Coleen Kwan Page A

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Authors: Coleen Kwan
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your wedding.” She glowered at him, his muteness only fueling her irritation. She ought to make him squirm and grovel, but the prospect left her cold. She didn’t want revenge. She just wanted him out of her life for good.
    She waved him off, tired of his company. “You don’t deserve it, Seth, but I won’t do anything to mess up your wedding.”
    His shoulders relaxed. “That’s great, Ally. I really appreciate it. I knew you’d come through for me.”
    “I’m not doing it for you; I’m doing it for Paige. I feel sorry for her. It’s none of my business, but you shouldn’t be keeping secrets from her.”
    “I—I’ll tell her sometime. Everything’s such a rush at the moment. There’s no time for anything with the wedding just two weeks from now.”
    “Why are you guys in such a hurry to get married anyway?” She drew in a quick breath. “Is Paige…?” The word stuck in her gullet. Why couldn’t she say it? It happened all the time. And given the hastiness of the wedding, it was the logical thing to suspect. She wasn’t the first to think it, even if she couldn’t verbalize it.
    He wrinkled his brow, looking completely perplexed. “We’re getting married in a hurry because I’m being transferred to London shortly.”
    “Oh.” Was that all? “I see. That’s…good.”
    “Yeah, it’s great.” With a satisfied air he tucked the bag under his arm and made for the exit. “Paige’s dad didn’t believe us at first. Thought we were getting married because she was pregnant. Can you believe it? As if we’d be so careless.” He opened the door and paused to look back at Ally. “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”
    The bell jingled, and the door banged shut.
    Ally forced herself to walk over and lock the door. She leaned her back against the glass, then slowly slid down until she was sitting on the hard floor.
    …
    One of the drawbacks of Burronga was the lack of late-night eating places, especially on a Sunday. Nate had been painting and cleaning all day, getting his house ready for his final move, and hadn’t stopped until his growling stomach warned him it was time for a break. By then it was almost ten and his chances of picking up a decent meal were slim to none. Which was why he’d resorted to visiting the gargantuan McDonald’s on the main freeway. With the smell of hot French fries permeating the interior of his Maserati, he decided to return home via Burronga’s main street. He had no reason to take this longer route, but something in him wanted to drive past Ally’s building. Just a friendly check , he told himself. Not that he was going to stop and knock on her door or anything. But ever since Friday night he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Even when he was painting and scrubbing she was there at the back of his mind, lingering like a sweet perfume.
    He cruised past the Red Possum, just about shut at this time of night. Up ahead he saw Ally’s building, a glimmer of light radiating from the upstairs rooms. So she was still up. His chest tightened a fraction. This was stupid. But he slowed down anyway.
    Out of the corner of his eye he caught a blur of movement, a shadow slipping through the dimness beneath the awning of the gift shop. He frowned. The hunched figure, obscured by the hood of a baggy sweatshirt, moved toward the door leading up to Ally’s apartment and pawed at the handle. Nate didn’t stop to think twice. He pulled the car to a halt, leaped out, and sprinted the short distance to the door.
    “Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?” He reached out to pull back the hood shrouding the slight figure only to reveal Ally staring up at him. Her face was pale and splotchy, her eyelids swollen, the tip of her nose pink. He drew back in shocked surprise. “Ally?”
    She flinched. “Yeah, what?”
    “What are you doing out so late?” He glimpsed a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag in her hands. “Alcohol?” He couldn’t hide his astonishment.
    “A

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