Page 14 of Pack Coffey

Do I? YES! No questions asked.

He helps me out. "Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?"

"I can walk," I tell him as I go to take a step and the ground somehow shifts heading for my face.

"I got you," he chuckles in my ear, picking me up bridal style.

I throw my arms around his hard shoulders. "Nobody's ever carried me before."

"Don't tell Banks that," he mutters. "He'll make it a point to carry you everywhere."

"Would that be a bad thing?" I tease. "This is kind of nice."

I bury my nose into his neck and run it up the side, loving how his smoky campfire scent wraps around me. I must doze off again, because next thing I know, Keaton is setting me on the side of a bed, telling me to sit up for a minute. He walks over to the tall dresser and pulls out a shirt and pair of sweatpants.

"This will be a little big, but better than sleeping in your jeans," he says, walking back over and handing them to me.

When I take them and stare at them for a few seconds, trying to get a grasp on what I'm supposed to be doing with them, he asks, "Do you need help?"

"I don't think so," I tell him, yawning.

"Okay, I'm going to turn around and stay in here just in case," he warns.

I've barely got the energy to strip my jacket off and change my shirt. The jeans I just chuck to the floor and forego the pants. Who sleeps in pants anyway? Crawling under the covers, I tell him that it's okay to turn back around.

He grabs my clothes off the floor. As soon as he lifts my jacket, my keys fall out onto the bed. "Hey! There's my keys! Thank you for finding them."

Chuckling, he picks them up and moves over to put all my things on the dresser. "You're welcome, Darci. I'm going to lock the door so that you feel safer. Sleep well."

I want to tell him thank you. I want to tell him that he doesn't have to lock the door because I feel totally safe with them. More safe than I've ever felt. I want to tell him something else, too, but I don't remember what it is. As soon as my eyes close, I'm dead to the world.

Bright, warm light slowly creeps up my face, leaving me ina half-woke state until it hits my eyes. I throw the blanket over my head to hide from it. The warmth isn't worth the pounding behind my eyelids. I burrow down into my blankets until I'm comfy and surrounded by the scent of a warm fire. I don't even need the sun for the warm and fuzzy feeling. Wait. My bed doesn't smell like this.

Sitting up with the toss of the blanket, I look around in a panic not knowing where I am. Until the night before comes crashing back down on me.

"Oh my god," I groan into my hands. The secondhand embarrassment from my own actions might just be the actual death of me. I drank entirely too much last night. They probably think I'm nuts. And I tried to kiss Saint. Dramatically falling back against a stack of pillows, I'm hit with Keaton's scent again. Taking a deep breath and sucking it down greedily, I realize in the way that it instantly calms me that I've got a serious problem. My omega wants to purr at the thought of lying in his bed. Even worse is the way I grow wet between my legs when I think about him being in here with me. God help us all if Banks was here, too. His possessiveness last night made me feel things I've never felt before. Even through my alcohol-riddled brain.

If I don't get up out of this bed right this second, I'm just going to keep further embarrassing myself because this pack is doing something to me. I'm perfuming almost out of control. Hopping up out of the bed, I facepalm myself for the second time this morning. Even though there's clearly a pair of pants at the end of the bed, I decided not to wear them in a house full of unmated males. Just call me Einstein. I see my things over on the dresser, so I make my way over there.

I've just stripped my shirt off and am standing in nothing other than my bra and panties when there's a soft knock at the door. I panic freeze and forget how to speak. Within a matter of seconds, the door creaks open and Keaton's head pops aroundthe edge. We're caught in a standoff that only lasts for a moment before I let out a squeaking sound, grabbing for my shirt or pants or anything really.

He apologizes profusely as he quickly ducks back out of the door. I get my feet in my pants, only a little too fast. They catch around my ankles and I go crashing to the floor with a loud thump.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice muffled from the other side of the wooden door.

"I'm fine," I call out, trying to pick myself up with my pants literally around my ankles.

"Are you sure?" he asks again.

"Yeah," I reply, trying to think of something. "My pants fell."

His voice is still a little worried when he says, "It sounded louder than that."

"Umm," I stall, giving up after a second. "Yeah, I was in them."

There's a short pause before a chuckle flows through the door. I can still hear the smile in his voice when he offers, "Breakfast is downstairs if you're hungry. Absolutely no rush, but we can take you home whenever you're ready to go."

"Great, thanks," I tell him from still on my knees, burying my face into the bed after.

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