Page 17 of Pack Plus One

“He’s been giving her smug looks from across the room,” Liam supplies to my utter mortification. He noticed?

“Tell me if he comes near her,” Caleb says, and it’s not a request. The alpha authority in his voice should irritate me—I’ve spent two years building a life independent of alpha protection—but instead, it makes me feel oddly safe.

Which is ridiculous. I barely know this man.

Before I can respond, Mason joins us on the balcony, a steaming cup in hand. “Thought you might need this,” he says, offering me the cup.

The rich aroma of coffee hits me, and I realize I’ve been yawning. “God, yes,” I say gratefully, accepting the cup as Caleb helpfully takes the champagne from my fingers. Again, at that brief touch, electricity races up my arm and down my throat straight into my gut.

I gulp, gaze shifting to Mason. Unlike the others, Mason seems content to observe rather than possess, and there’s something incredibly appealing about his quiet attention.

“Perfect timing,” I tell him after taking a sip. “How did you know?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “You’ve been suppressing yawns for the past fifteen minutes. And you keep checking the time.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those paying attention,” he says simply.

And something tells me he's exactly the type of guy that pays attention. The quiet observer.

The coffee is exactly what I need—strong and sweet with a hint of something that makes me pause mid-sip. There's a familiar warmth beneath the richness, something that instantly soothes my frayed nerves. “Did you add cinnamon to this?”

He nods, his expression unchanged but something like quiet interest flickering in his eyes. “The bartender said they had it.”

“It’s...my favorite,” I say, genuinely surprised. I’ve never mentioned this preference to any of them—how could I have?We just met. Yet somehow, this quiet beta had instinctively known. “How did you...?”

He shrugs slightly, as if it were nothing special. “You seem like someone who appreciates the unexpected in familiar things.”

The simple observation—so accurate it’s almost unsettling—leaves me momentarily speechless.

Jude joins us a moment later, completing our little group on the balcony. “There you all are,” he says, a hint of petulance in his voice. “The networking is happening inside, you know.”

“We’re taking a break,” Liam says mildly.

Jude squeezes in to lean against the balustrade next to me, close enough that our shoulders touch. “Are we boring you already, doll?”

“No, not at all,” I smile, raising my coffee cup. “Just recharging.”

He grins back, the slight edge in his voice softening. “Good. Because you still owe me that dance.”

The reminder makes my pulse quicken. I glance at my watch, relieved to see it’s nearly nine. “Actually, I should probably head out soon. It’s getting late.”

“Leaving so soon?” Jude asks, his tone laced with surprise. “But we’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding, of course.”

I freeze, my escape plan crumbling. “T-Tomorrow?” I stammer. “Oh, um... about that...”

Just then, I spot Eric approaching from the still-open doors. What the fuck? Had he been keeping tabs on where we went? Damn. Fuck. Shit! His timing is as terrible as ever. And it’s clear he’s caught the tail end of our conversation. He’s got that look on his face—the one that always preceded his most condescending comments during our relationship.

“Leaving already, Leah?” he asks, a smug smile playing at his lips. “Surely, we’ll see you at the main event tomorrow?”

My mind races. I can’t admit I wasn’t planning on attending the wedding, not with Eric gloatingright here. The whole point of this charade was to show him I wasn’t still hung up on our breakup. That I’d moved on. Admitting I was planning to skip his wedding would just confirm what he already thinks—that I care too much.

Fuuuuuuck!

“Of course we’ll be there,” I blurt out, shooting a panicked look at the Le Roux pack. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Eric’s smile falters slightly, and I feel a petty thrill of satisfaction. He wanted me to squirm, to admit defeat. Not today, Eric.

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