Page 58 of Pack Plus One

Caleb stands in the doorway, chest heaving like he’s run a marathon, green eyesburningwith feral intensity. His nostrilsflare once, twice—then his gaze locks onto the lace in my hand with laser-like precision.

Oh, shit.

“Give.” His voice is pure alpha command, rough with possession, the single syllable vibrating with enough authority to make even my rebellious instincts quiver. “Them. To. Me.”

I clutch the panties to my chest, backing up a step. “Finders keepers, big guy.”

Caleb moves faster than I can blink, slamming me against the wall with one hand braced by my head. His dark chocolate and espresso wraps around me, thick with warning. “Last chance, Jude.”

Mason sighs from behind us. “You two are like kindergarteners. Please?—”

I duck under Caleb’s arm and bolt for the door, cackling like a madman. “Catch me if you can, Cale!”

I make it approximately three steps into the hallway before 220 pounds of furious alpha tackles me to the ground with the precision of a professional linebacker.

“Mine,” Caleb growls in my ear, his forearm pressing between my shoulder blades as he reaches for the panties still clutched in my fist. His knee digs into my spine with bruising pressure.

“Fuckoff—” I twist, trying to shove him away, but Caleb’s built like a goddamn brick wall. I manage to squirm onto my back, holding the panties aloft like the Olympic torch. “I found them fair and square!”

Mason appears in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like a disappointed parent. “This is undignified.”

“Help me, you traitorous beta!” I wheeze as Caleb attempts to pin both my wrists with one hand.

Mason considers this request for approximately half a second. Then, to my eternal betrayal, he crouches down andtickles my ribs.

“Motherf—” I shriek, bucking wildly as Caleb uses the distraction to try prying the lace from my fingers?—

—just as Liam rounds the corner, tie perfectly knotted, a stack of files tucked under one arm.

He stops dead, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ of shock. “What in the actual—” His reading glasses slide down his nose as he takes in the scene: Caleb straddling my hips, Mason sitting on my legs, and the now-stretched remains of Leah’s panties held above my head like the world’s most inappropriate trophy.

Liam’s eye twitches. “Is thather underwear?”

“Technically,” I gasp from my position pinned beneath two grown men, “they’reourunderwear now. Community property. I’m just ensuring equal distribution.”

Liam makes a sound like a deflating balloon mixed with a dying whale.

“For God’s sake,” he hisses, dropping his files on a nearby table and marching over. “We are not cavemen fighting over?—”

His sentence cuts off abruptly as he gets close enough for his nose to catch what has Caleb and me in a frenzy. His pupils dilate instantly.

“Is that—” Liam swallows hard. “Give me those.”

And just like that, four grown men are engaged in a literal dogpile in the hallway, snarling over a scrap of lace.

“I FOUND IT FAIR AND SQUARE,” I yell as Caleb’s elbow connects with my ribs.

“We’re supposed to be giving her SPACE,” Liam grunts, somehow having lost both his glasses and his dignified persona in the scuffle.

“Technically, we are,” I point out, narrowly avoiding Mason’s attempt to pinch the pressure point in my wrist. “These are just her panties that she left here. She’s not even present.”

“That’s—” Caleb pants, “—not the point.”

The panties, caught in our collective grip, make an ominous ripping sound.

We all freeze.

“Now look what you’ve done,” I accuse, pointing at Mason.

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