Page 17 of Pack Coffey

Chapter Six

It's been a whole week since I got embarrassingly drunk and spent the night at the Coffey pack house. I've seen Lawrence in the one class that we share twice a week. He came and sat by me both days, making my heart do little trippy things. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the coffee he brought me both days doing it, either. Maybe by the kind gesture of it.

I'm looking forward to my shift at the station this weekend, but I can't be sure anymore if it's because of doing something I love or because I know that he's going to be there with me. I never really saw myself being one of those guy—or pack—obsessed omegas, yet, here I am. Only a week later, and I wonder for the fifth time today when I'm going to see the others again.

Saint stopped by a couple days ago and dropped off things for the case, which involved interviews with the families and suspects. He didn't come inside and didn't stay. We also didn't talk about me trying to kiss him last weekend. I have a feeling that might be the reason why he's avoiding me right now. The first chance I get, I'm going to address it and get us back on the same page for the case. We're never going to solve it like this.

I'm walking across campus, planning on going home before heading over to the station for my shift tonight when I run into Lawrence. Though, I'm not sure if running into him is the right way to say it. I get the feeling he was searching me out.

"Hi," he says, falling into step easily with me.

"Hey," I greet him with a smile.

"I know you said you walk everywhere, but I'd like to offer my chauffeur services for the time being," he says.

I roll my eyes, not actually annoyed. "Did Saint put you up to this?"

He shrugs. "We all kind of agreed on it. There's a person out here doing bad things to girls. Better to be safe than sorry,right?"

Knowing he's absolutely right and that I need to seriously reconsider bringing my car here, I reply, "I accept."

"Good," he says, reaching out a hand and waiting for me to take it.

My belly does flips as I think about how we look like a couple walking across campus. When we get to his car, he opens the door for me and I see a box with a bow in the front seat.

"What's this?" I ask him.

He does the lopsided grin. "A present."

"For?" I ask.

His smile grows. "You."

"From you?" I ask.

He nods slightly, almost shy. "It's just something I think you might appreciate."

No one other than my parents has ever bought me a present, and it makes me giddy on the inside. "When can I open it?"

This time he laughs. "Now, if you want."

I clap excitedly before setting my back in his floor and start unwrapping the box. Inside sits the most beautiful espresso machine with several bags of coffee beans and other things to make my favorite latte.

"You might already have one, but this one is pretty cool," he says behind me. "It grinds the beans right before it brews, giving you a fresh cup of espresso every time just like the cafe. Just in case you ever don’t feel like going out for one."

It's so thoughtful that I can't contain my happiness. Spinning on my heel, I throw my arms around his middle, thanking him as his arms go around me.

I feel his lips press onto the top of my head. It would be nothing to lift my chin and capture one of those on my lips instead, but for some inexplicable reason, I don't. Instead, we letgo of each other and get into the car. He tries to take the box to move it to the backseat, but I turn it away from him without letting him take it. I just barely hold back from telling him that it's mine. Don't ask where the desire to do that comes from, because I have no idea.

He doesn't act offended in the least. On the contrary, he's grinning as we pull out onto the street. It only takes a few minutes to get to my house. I guide him down the driveway to the actual tiny home I'm staying in. Letting him take the box, knowing it's safe with him, I grab my bag and let us inside.

His chuckle fills the space as he steps inside. "This is probably the coolest thing I think I've ever seen. I'd love to see how Saint fits in here."

I laugh, not being able to resist dishing out my own teasing, "You've got some room to be talking. Your head is almost touching the ceiling."

He glances up and laughs, the deep sound making me swallow hard.

"That's fair," he says, still grinning. "Want me to help you set this up?"

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