Page 59 of Their Knotty Pack
"Good." I sigh, and then let out a pained groan when the voicemail pops up on my screen. It's the third one this week. I would just block their numbers, but if something happens, I want to have the voicemails as proof they aren't who everyone thinks they are. "Let's see what they have to say this time."
"Bethany,"Preston's aggravated voice comes on the line as I play the voicemail on speaker,"When are you going to stop punishing us? Come on. You've had more than enough time to throw your little tantrum wherever you're hiding. It's time to be a good girl and come back home. We'll even let you bring your boy-toy along as long as you share—"
His words have bile turning in my throat as I exit the voicemail. I can't listen to a second more.
"Shit," Lanie hisses, "I knew they were vile, but this is a whole other level."
Swallowing roughly, I export the voicemail as an .mp4 on my phone and upload to the cloud, just like Hannah's alpha, Noah, told me to. I don't need that shit on my phone.
"Come on, babe. We have a one o'clock appointment to keep." Lanie sighs, grabbing a protein shake from the fridge. She taps her freshly done nails on the door.
Dread fills me as I stand from the table, gathering up my stuff. I used to love my job. I used to love helping omegas find their packs.
Before I met Miles, I figured I was just depressed, and that's why going to work every day made me feel like throwing up. Now though…I'm starting to wonder how many omegas I've "helped", that ended up in a situation just like mine.
Or worse.
I'm just grateful that no omegas have asked me about my personal life recently. Then I'd have to say that I used to have a pack and now I'm kinda-sorta with a different one, but I'm only mated to one of them, plus my omega mate.
That's not really a story I want to get into.
If I hadn't met Miles when I did, I'd have no support system against Pack Hansen now that they're harassing me again.
Other omegas might not be so lucky. I just wish there was something I could do to help.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, and by the time I get home, I'm ready to take a nap. Both Miles' and Damien's cars are in the driveway, and surprisingly so is Brody's. Normally he's not home until after dinner.
The guys have all insisted on taking turns cooking, and it's the only time we all get together as a "pack".
When I open the front door, the front room is empty, which in itself isn't odd, but the delicious smell of creamy sauce and garlic wafting through the area is. I follow my nose, entering the kitchen to find Brody, standing in the kitchen in nothing but sweatpants and apron, humming to himself as he stirs something on the stove.
Holy.Shit.
I had been so out of sorts when I woke up after my heat ended I didn't even think tolookat him. But shit, have I been missing out. While he's not as bulky as Kieran, or as lean as Miles, he lies somewhere between, his back muscles rippling as he reaches over the to cabinet to grab…something. I have no idea, my eyes are trained on the way his shoulders are currently flexing—
My raspberry scent fills the air and I immediately curse myself for being so obvious with my reaction.
"Bethany?" Brody is asking as he turns, a heart-stopping smile on his face. How have I not noticed just how breathtaking he is until this very moment?
I feel my cheeks warm at his attention, even though I know for a fact he knotted me multiple times during my heat.
"That…that smells really good," I manage to get out without sounding like a flustered idiot. "Do you cook a lot?"
I want to smack myself as soon as the words leave me. Does hecook a lot? He's a lawyer, not a chef. Of course he doesn't cook a lot.
He gives me a small grin. "Yes, actually, or, I used to." Oh. "I took today off early since I realized I hadn't taken my turn cooking yet."
"You should do that more often," I start to ramble, unable to stop myself. What is it about him that is making my omega turn to mush right now? "Taking off work early, I mean. Not cooking. Well, maybe cooking, I haven't tasted it yet. But also, I didn't mean for you to take off work, like,earlyearly. I know your work is important, I just meant at a reasonable hour—"
Brody's expression turns thoughtful as he takes a step forward. "Have you been feeling neglected by me, beautiful?"
My mouth goes dry. Did he just call me beautiful?
My cheeks areflamingnow. "I—no, I mean—"
He silences me by ghosting his lips over my cheek, and my breath hitches, his clean leather and cedar wood scent encompassing me. "For the record, nothing is more important than you and Miles, not even my work. I'm afraid I haven't been a very good alpha to you, have I?" he murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His whole sentence is ridiculous, because of course I'm not more important than the omegas that he helps everyday, but before I can say anything he keeps talking. "That settles it then. I'll start leaving the office at five every day, okay?" He leans back slightly, looking into my eyes.
Is he going to kiss me?
