Page 44 of Truth or Pack

This pack was my worst nightmare, but somehow I was realizing they were so much more than their past, and so was I.

I woke up feeling more relaxed than I have in years. The only thing that was missing were my mates in the bed with me.

Was I even ready for that step?

Even if the answer was no, it wouldn’t be long until I was ready. The lightness in my chest was foreign to me. I don't remember a time that I ever felt so happy and free, like the world made sense and I wasn’t so alone.

The urge to call and catch up to Bea had me opening my phone, but instead of messaging her, I was bombarded with notifications on my website and socials. I opened my PackPages account, but that was a huge mistake.

There were far too many bubbles that I had messages and my comments were blowing up. I was supposed to be on vacation, I even posted a video stating that and here I was in notification hell.

There was a knock on my door and Mathias peeked in with a smile on his face, until he noticed the distress in mine.

"Who's ass do I need to kick?" he asked as he crossed the room and took a seat on the bed.

"Mine?" I asked, weakly.

"What?" he countered.

"I opened my PackVlog app and I'm regretting it. Look," I said, holding up my phone so he could see what I was talking about.

"Holy hell," he breathed out in shock. "What is all that?"

"I told you I went viral, remember? To say I was busy after was an understatement. Well, to prepare for coming out here, I put my shop on vacation. I even posted a video across my accounts to explain it. Apparently, that didn’t matter. Orders are still piling in. There’s no way that I'm going to be able to keep up with this demand.”

I was ecstatic when my video blew up, now I was ready to vomit. This was so much pressure and tons of work for just one person.

"Well, you have three new employees at your service. What’s the website?" he asked.

"Mysterydatewithabook.com," I answered.

He took my phone and went to the browser and typed it in. I watched as he looked it over before saying anything.

Mathias returned my cell and said, "It's a cute site, but if you're up for some tweaks and updating it, I'd be more than happy to help. You'll need a new photo or two to add to it, your face should be at the front. Personalize it a little bit."

"Why do I feel like you just want to see me do a photoshoot?" I laughed, but also cringed a little. “I hate taking photos.”

"If it makes you feel better, the guys and I will, too," he offered with a shrug. “We can all dress up and everything. Don’t the book girls love that?”

"Oh, do I get to pick what you wear?" I asked, letting the prospect pull me out of my pity party.

"Wear?" Ash asked and he and Holt came in. Mathias wasn’t even a little sorry when he smirked at them.

"I volunteered us to do a photoshoot with Taryn. She wants to pick our outfits," Mathias explained.

"Fine, but we get to pick out hers and I'll get it all set up," Ash told us, shocking the hell out of me. Alphas were strange, sometimes. The last thing I expected was for him to be excited.

"Leave it to Ash to take over," Holt protested, but even he didn’t look opposed. Part of me hated that they were doing so much to win me over, but the omega side was soaking it all in. She secretly was preening under the attention, ready to roll over and present after some spoiling.

Good thing she wasn’t in charge.

Yet.

"Well, I'm okay with that. I need to record a video and talk to my viewers. Give them an update that the site is going to be overhauled and I'll be back to work soon. I think I’ll go sit in front of the lake. Which means, I need the three of you to get out so I can find a cute outfit and get all dolled up." I told them.

"If you are going to get dolled up, it's going to be for us," Holt growled, jealousy sparking in his eyes.

"I just meant less bed head and a little bit of makeup. There is no way that I can record looking like a zombie," I argued, rolling my eyes, but barely able to hold back a smile. Clearly, I also liked when they were possessive and jealous over me.

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