Page 82 of Pack Plus One

“And it was a valiant effort,” Jude says, sauntering closer with his usual lack of respect for personal space. “But you might as well have painted yourself with neon arrows.”

“We were worried,” Liam adds, his voice gentle. “When we realized you’d left?—”

“How did you…” My voice rises embarrassingly high. “You got into my apartment?”

“We were making sure you were safe,” Mason corrects. “From a respectful distance.”

“Until you decided to pull a Houdini,” Jude adds.

“Through afire escape,” Liam says, with such genuine concern that I almost feel guilty. Almost.

“I needed muffins,” I say, which sounds ridiculous even to my own ears.

Four pairs of eyes drop to the bag clutched against my chest.

“Muffins,” Caleb repeats flatly.

“Yes, muffins,” I snap, heat rising to my cheeks that has nothing to do with my biology. “Some of us actually need toeatduring pre-heat, and my cupboards were bare, and I wascravingthem, okay?” My voice wobbles on the last word. Traitorous stupid tears well in my eyes.

I force them back.

Something shifts in Caleb’s expression—a softening around the eyes.

“Oh, Leah. You risked a public confrontation with your ex... for muffins?”

“They’re really good muffins,” I mutter defensively.

A laugh escapes Jude, bright and unexpected. “Oh, doll. You are something else.”

My skin feels too tight, too hot. The scent of four amused males—all watching me with varying degrees of affection and exasperation—is making it hard to think straight.

“I need to go home,” I say, hating how breathless I sound.

“Alone?” Caleb asks, and the way he says it—not demanding, not assuming, just... asking—makes something twist painfully in my chest.

I should say yes. I should stand my ground, maintain my independence, prove that I don’t need them.

But God help me, Iwantthem.

Not just for my heat, though my biology is certainly screaming for that. But for the way they came looking for me. For the way Caleb defended me without hesitation. For the comfort of knowing I wouldn’t have to face the next few days alone.

I grab Caleb’s arm, my nails digging into the solid muscle of his forearm. Another spasm comes, a cramp that almost makes me whimper. “Can you…get me out of here?” I whisper.

His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring as he catches the change in my scent. “Your place or ours?”

Jude snorts. “Ours has better snacks.”

Liam elbows him sharply. “This isnotthe time?—”

“Ours,” I hear myself say.

The pack freezes, as if they can’t quite believe what they’re hearing. Then something electric passes between them—a look, a shift in their collective energy.

Caleb moves first, sweeping me into his arms like I weigh nothing, his growl vibrating against my skin. “Move.”

And just like that, I surrender.

18

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