Page 17 of Pack Apollo

Grinning, he appears to be hiding a secret. Pointing to the other door that's closed directly across the bathroom, he says, "That's Roz's room through there. We both had a hand in this design."

My eyebrows lift in surprise. "Wow, I didn't get a vibe like this from him."

"Why?" he questions, not bothering to hide his smile."Figured his style might be a little more..."

He trails off, obviously expecting me to finish the statement. Not wanting to disappoint, I do. "Stale? Prim and proper?"

The laugh he barks at this is even sturdier than before and sends him into a fit that he has to hold his hand over his belly for. I'm laughing with him by the time he manages to stop.

"I think that's the first time anyone has ever called him stale," he admits. "I'm here for it. Please, if he ever tries to start an argument with you, because he will, call him that."

Touching my lips, I huff out another quick laugh. "Why would he pick a fight with me?"

He shrugs. "Honestly, I think it's just because he loves arguing with people."

"Obviously," I say, referring to his job.

"Obviously," he repeats, smiling broadly.

"So, what other secrets are you hiding around here?" I tease.

His smile grows again. "Guess you'll have to stick around long enough to find out."

I spend the rest of the day hanging out at their house. We play pool at one point. When I make a bet with Jake that I can beat him, I'm not entirely sure that he doesn't let me win, but either way, I'm not going to complain since it means I'll get to use the aquarium bathroom upstairs.

Once Brent starts dinner, I take to the kitchen with him to help him cook. We end up not being alone as the rest of them find some way to make themselves useful in the room with us. Causing him to call them out on it, saying they never help cook normally on his days. Jake agrees with Palmer when he says it's just because Brent always cooks the best food. I don't mind either way, because I like their easygoing banter with each other. The only one who doesn't make a huge effort to get involved isRoz. I feel like a bug under a microscope every time I turn to catch him staring at me. I do the best that I can to ignore it.

After dinner, we chill out in their den for the movie that Jake picked out. It's even more odious than the one they played on campus last weekend, and I love it. And if it hadn't gotten so late, when it's over, I could've been talked into another one. As it is, everyone has work the next day and a couple of us have school.

Palmer drives me home, walking me to the door of my dorm before giving me a lighter kiss than he has all day and promising that it's just a small reminder of him. I fall into my empty, creaky, uncomfortable bed with a smile, and for once, look forward to tomorrow.

Chapter Six

Cordell

It's been less than twelve hours since Billie walked out of our house with our pack mate, and I can't help but to feel like I've lost something. The whole thing doesn't make any sense, because I'm not one to get emotionally attached to anyone or anything. I have my grand, old, familial pack to thank for that. My mother and her mates all worked high-profile careers, leaving me to be raised by nannies. Or, more often than not, myself. I learned a long time ago that the only person you can ever truly rely on is yourself.

Which is why I'm shocking the hell out of myself all morning wondering if I'm going to run into Billie at yoga today. I'm so far gone, that I've had to stop myself from going across the hall and having Palmer text her to ask. Which, of course, sets off another round of self-loathing, because I'm jealous that he's able to contact her when I'm not.

Lucky enough for me, Mondays are slow enough that I don't have any meetings to go to and am able to work from home most of the day. Roz isn't going to be happy that I'm skipping out today, but he'll get over it. Not like he has any current clients in dire need of investment-banking advice right this second anyway.

By the time the early afternoon rolls around, I take consideration in picking out what I'm wearing for yoga and decide against any cologne, even in the slightest. I want my alpha scent all over her. Maybe as a payback for not being able to walk anywhere in our house since yesterday without smelling honeysuckle. I found myself many times last night wishing I would've walked around with them yesterday so that she would've at least walked into my room. The one place in the house I wish still smelled like her and it never did to begin with.

Showing up a little earlier than I usually do to class, I park and head inside. I assumed I'd be the first inside, and I'm not wrong. For the past two months, I've come to this class twice a week. Almost every single time, she's been here. I've done a great job pretending like her honeysuckle scent didn't hit me like a ton of bricks every time, too. I'm really good at blocking things out. Especially when it comes to people.

Laying my mat out in the setting next to where I know she'll be, in the same place she's always ever been, I stretch, just waiting. The class starts to fill as the time ticks away. Just as I think she's going to lose her spot or not show up for it at all, she breezes through the door. Her cheeks are flushed like she ran the whole way here from campus. At first, her eyes are locked onto her phone, but when they flick up to avoid stepping on people, she spots me. I see the physical lift and fall of her shoulders like she just sucked in a breath. There's no pause in her step, but I can tell that I surprised her.

"Hi," she says, making her way to where I am.

"Hello," I reply.

She doesn't have to be offered the place beside me since it's unspokenly hers anyway. Laying out her things, she rolls out her mat, setting her other stuff beside it before propping up her phone and starting a video. I watch the screen for a few minutes as she stretches and curiously notice that even with all the angles that her body turns, she doesn't capture her face at all.

Finally observing that I'm being a total creep, her head swivels my way and she smiles. And just like that, we're in that deep water that Roz was so worried about us drowning in. The whole hour of class, I try to get into the different poses, and not a single time being loose enough for it to work. I'm too distracted by the long-legged blonde beauty at my side, who seems to have tuned everything out. I wish I could say the same.

By the time class is over, I think I'm more worked up thanwhen I walked in. More likeknowthat I am, notthink. Waiting until we've both got our things packed up and there's a bit of conversation going around the room, I ask her, "Want to go grab a drink?"

"Sure," she says, adding, "I just hope you don't mean alcohol, because it's a little early and I don't typically drink on the weekdays."

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