Page 6 of Pack Giroux

"I don't want to spend a lot of money on one," I say honestly. "I don't need the newest one."

He nods quickly in understanding with a smile. "Yeah, of course. We've got a bunch that are older versions, but still just as good. They're a lot cheaper, and you still get your discount, too."

"Awesome," I reply, returning his smile.

His breath catches for a second. I don't even think he realizes that it's as loud as it is. Stumbling a bit over his words, he finally gets out, "I'll meet you over at the computers when you get done."

I watch him walk away and can't help but think he's cute in a nerdy kind of way. His leathery scent isn't super strong to me, which means he's probably a beta. Nothing like the sensation of the run-in with the alpha last night, but he's still cute.

An hour later, I'm leaving with all of the books I'll need and a new laptop that hurt my stomach to buy, spending so much on it. Plus, I got a couple NFU tee shirts and a navy-blue sweatshirt with a wolverine logo. I think about how I need to update my list and keep a tally of everything I've spent. I want to keep money on that card just in case things take a turn for the bad. Honestly, it'd help to get a job, but I don't know how much time I'm going to have around classes and volleyball. I'll need a couple weeks, if not more, to figure out what kind of time restraint I'll be on.

Stopping by the dorm, I drop off my purchases before heading back out again. I want to get all of my stuff done before the sun even thinks about setting today. I don't want to get stuck out after dark again.

Even if it means you might run into that alpha again?the little voice inside my head asks, giving me butterflies at the thought. Having no one to talk to, it's easy to overthink every single, tiny detail of everything. I've managed to think a lot on what I'd do if I ran into him again. Possibly even ask him to lunch or something. If I'm not too much of a chicken if the opportunity presents itself again.

When I pass the restaurant, I can't help but glance inside to see if he's there, but it seems that no one is. It must be too early for them to open. Won't lie and say it doesn't make my steps a little heavier. I've built myself up and talked myself into it, only to be thwarted by living in a dream world. I need to remember to treat it all like what happened with my volleyball scholarship. If you want something, you've got to reach out and take it in that moment. For the next, it might be gone.

Still having hours and nothing better to do, I take my time in the department store. I pick out two new workout outfits and some tennis shoes, along with a water bottle and a few other necessities. Going over to cleaning supplies, I move to the laundry detergent. Again, the only thing we used on the compound was stuff we made ourselves, and the options here seem to be limitless. It's more than a little overwhelming.

"Excuse me," a voice says from behind me.

I scoot my cart off to the side and pretend that I'm not totally lost as the man passes. Glancing up at his back, I can't help but notice how tall he is. His jeans are hugging his long legs and bum in all the right places to make people like me look twice. As if that weren't enough, his shirt is tight, too, clinging to his muscled arms and shoulders.

He turns to look at me as he grabs something off the shelf, and I give my head a jerk, trying to be inconspicuous in my perusal of him. I can see him still watching me out of the corner of my eye, so I grab the first thing I can and pretend to read the package.

His boots and jean-covered legs are the first thing I see as he approaches me, "You look lost."

Glancing up and up at his face is a big mistake. When I say the man is gorgeous, I mean stunningly so. His brown hair fans around his face, matching the color of his eyes and the stubble covering his jaw. As if looks weren't enough, he just has to go and smell good, too. Like warm vanilla with a touch of honey, and it's not super strong like an alpha, so he must be a beta.

My face goes hot as we stand there in a silent standoff while he waits on me to stop being awkward and say something. It's the only reason why I blurt the truth. "I've never used any of this stuff before, and I'm going to need clean laundry at some point. I don't know what I'm doing."

He doesn't laugh like I expect. Quite the contrary. He points to the container I'm holding, "I wouldn't go with what you've got there unless you're wanting to add some white spots to your clothes, or worse."

Putting the bottle back on the shelf like it might burn me if I hold it any longer, I dust my hands off and run them down the sides of my shorts like I might've gotten some on me. "Thanks."

His lips turn up with a sexy smile before he walks me down the aisle, explaining the differences between most of the choices. Helping me settle on one of the little dissolvable packs in a green bag, he shares, "No shame in asking for help. You're not the first one. We've all got to start somewhere."

"You mean you haven't always been the laundry detergentguru?" I tease, flirting a bit and having no idea where it's coming from.

When he laughs, I feel it in my lower belly where I probably shouldn't be feeling it. Where it's a sin to be feeling it.

"How do you think I knew to tell you whatnotto use?" he asks, still beaming. "I accidentally turned one of my pack mate's favorite shirts pink using bleach."

I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my laugh. "Was he mad?"

He laughs again. "Nope. Even wore it once or twice just so I wouldn't feel bad about it. I didn't tell him, but that actually made me feel even worse."

"Oh, no," I say softly.

Shrugging, he simply says, "It's part of life. It won't ever be perfect, but that doesn't mean you can't be happy or make others around you happy."

"Like stopping to help clueless strangers in the detergent aisle," I state.

Keeping our gazes locked, he says, "Exactly that."

His stare is intense for a moment, making my heart race before he offers. "I'm Grady, by the way."

"Marnie," I tell him.

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