Page 46 of Stalked By the Alphas
“Bring it to mine. I have a washing machine. It’s built into the utility. It’s a very handy house.”
I chuckle at his description and place the lid on the hamper. “Won’t we look silly carrying that down the street?”
He picks it up with a grin. “Silly? No, absolutely not. Manly alphas don’t look silly, dear Hazel, even carrying laundry hampers full ofdirtyclothes down the road.”
Dirty. The way he said the word was full of innuendo and sent a tingle down my spine. “Well, you are the one carrying it, so that’s up to you then,” I say, trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl. I have to remember this isCarter. My friend. Not some alpha I’m trying to date or mate with.
That brings the pact slamming into the forefront of my mind. Does he remember that? Is that why he’shere? Panic floods me, and my brain seems to rotate in my head. My palms go damp, and I sit heavily on the bed. Carter drops the hamper and comes over quickly, crouching in front of me.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head, avoiding his gaze. “I think maybe I need to take some of those tablets.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not since this morning. But it was an entire pizza.”
He chuckles. “Yum. What was on it?”
“Pepperoni.”
“My favourite.”
I remember.
I smile weakly at the memory of countless shared pizzas in our youth. “Mine too.”
Carter’s blue eyes soften with nostalgia. “Good to see some things never change. Remember that time we ordered the extra large and tried to eat the whole thing ourselves? I thought I was going to burst.”
A genuine laugh escapes me. “And Noah kept trying to steal slices when we weren’t looking.”
“While Zach lectured us about the nutritional value, or lack thereof,” Carter adds with a grin.
For a moment, I’m transported back to simpler times. No hallucinations, no anxiety, just four friends sharing greasy pizza and laughter. The ache in my chest intensifies.
Carter seems to sense my shift in mood. He squeezes my knee gently. “Hey, why don’t we grabsome food on the way to my house? You shouldn’t take those pills on an empty stomach.”
I nod, grateful for the distraction. “Okay. Just let me finish packing.”
As I move around the room, gathering toiletries and a few personal items, I can feel Carter’s eyes on me. There’s an intensity to his gaze that I’m not sure how to interpret.
“Ready?” he asks when I zip up my suitcase.
“I think so,” I reply, glancing around the room one last time. Am I really doing this? Moving in with Carter, even temporarily?
But as another wave of dizziness hits me, I know I don’t have much choice.
Carter somehow manages to juggle both the hamper and the suitcase as we head back downstairs. His broad shoulders practically brush the walls on either side as he descends easily, with me trailing along, clutching my handbag. I spot the cam bear shoved up against the wall from when I opened the door earlier this morning and chew my lip. Should I bring him? It might make me feel safer.
Him. Thinking of it as a him makes me feel oddly comforted. Carter opens the front door and wheels my suitcase out, still gripping the hamper. I look back over my shoulder and gulp. It’s not forever, and it’s not like I’m not going to be five minutes away. I can come back whenever I want. I will have to at some point to pick up any work stuff I might need, anyway. With Carter waiting for me, I close the door partially to scoop up thebear and shove it into the top of my bag, his furry head sticking out. Carter raises an eyebrow at it but says nothing.
“We’ll cut across the park,” he says when I’ve locked up. “It’s quicker. There is that small Co-op supermarket on the corner. We can go in there and pick out some things you’d like.”
“I don’t want to put you out. I eat almost anything.”
He chuckles. “Okay, you got me. It’s like Mother Hubbard’s in the kitchen right now. We need to stop and shop.”
I let out a loud laugh, feeling a lot of the tension in my shoulders go. “Okay, well, thank you for not keeping up the ruse of shopping for me as an excuse.”
