Page 109 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

Cam turns with a spatula in hand, mock-offended. “Are you saying I’m not taking this seriously?”

“I’m saying,” she grins at him over her juice, “that I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes and no one has proposed.”

Wes snorts, not looking up. “What kind of idiot proposes to someone wearingthathoodie?”

“It’s yours,” she fires back sweetly.

“Exactly.”

I bite back a laugh as I head for the coffee pot. “She’s got a point, though. Cam made heart-shaped pancakes yesterday.”

“They wereaccidentalheart shapes,” Cam mutters, cheeks flushing as he flips another one. “The pan is warped.”

“Mmm.” Aimee slides off the counter and pads over to him, stealing a slice of pancake right off the spatula. “Tell that to my heart, Alpha.”

Cam lets her, of course; watching her chew with stars in his eyes.

Wes glances up from his phone, eyes flicking to her and then to me. “She’s got you all hypnotized.”

“Who says you’re not hypnotized too?” I ask, raising a brow.

Wes opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again when Aimee hip-bumps him on the way back to the table. She drops into the seat beside him, curls a hand around his bicep without thinking, and leans against him.

He tenses, though not in a bad way. It’s more…surprised.

But he doesn’t pull away.

I watch him let it happen—her head on his shoulder, the little smile she hides in her mug. He even angles the phone so she can read it too. That alone feels monumental.

I stand there with my coffee and soak it in. Somehow, this ridiculous, glitter-strewn chaos queen came into our lives and started stitching everything back together. The four of us are moving around the kitchen like it’s choreographed—Cam humming, Aimee teasing, Wes grumbling but not leaving, and me watching them all like an idiot with a full heart.

We’re not perfect, but we’re trying, and for the first time, I think this thing we’re building…

It might actually last.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Aimee

“Iknew it!” Zara shrieks, nearly tipping backwards off the restaurant booth. “The second you said he growled in your face, Iknewhe was gonna ruin your damn life.”

“He hasn’t ruined anything,” I mutter, ears burning. “Except maybe my ability to think like a normal, non-feral, non-knot-drunk adult.”

“You’ve been scent-matched and lightly slut-claimed by two of them at once. You arenotjust holding hands and doing wholesome eye contact in different bedrooms,” Lex snorts into her cocktail. “You’re basically halfway to a pack claiming ceremony.”

“I haven’t beenclaimed. Jesus. And I wasn’t supposed tolikethem! That was the whole point!”

“Right,” Zara says, tone dripping with fake innocence. “You were just meant to infiltrate, sabotage, and emotionally annihilate three big, brooding alphas in coordinated hoodies. Instead, you accidentally nested and let them reorganize your spice rack.”

“Okay, first of all,Ireorganized the spice rack,” I snap. “Perfect presentation is not a suggestion, it’s a lifestyle.”

Lex raises a hand. “Oh sorry, I forgot that while you were bringing down the patriarchy you also became their live-in domestic goddess. So what’s next: do you want us to send you a monogrammed pack apron?”

I try to glare at her, but I can’t help but laugh along with her dry tone.

“It’s not like I planned to—” I gesture helplessly, “—doany of this. Cam was just supposed to be golden-retriever background noise, a cute distraction. Jace wasn’t supposed to make me laugh until I got the hiccups. AndWes?” I sigh. “Don’t even get me started on that emotionally repressed alpha-hole.”

“Oh, wewantto get started on Wes,” Lex leans in. “We want the growl-by-growl breakdown.”

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