Page 12 of Stuck with my Pack
I snort, shaking my head. A big smile on my face “Missed you? No. Missed you being around to make Tyler’s life miserable? YES.”
Tyler laughs, and the sound is lighter than I’ve heard in years. It’s enough to ease some of the weight in my chest, but not all of it.
“Truth,” I say, my tone firm. “I want a pack again. If we’re doing this—if we’re trying again—it has to be all of us making it work. No more running. No more bullshit.”
They both nod, the unspoken agreement settling between us.
“No more bullshit” Brodie says.
The conviction in his voice steadies something in me, and I feel a faint flicker of hope. Brodie raises his glass again, his grin returning, though it’s softer now, more thoughtful.
“Cheers to you, you assholes,” he says, his voice carrying a weight that goes beyond the usual teasing. “And to whatever the hell this ends up being.”
“Cheers fuckers,” Tyler raises his glass.
I hesitate for only a moment before lifting my glass too, my voice low but steady. “To us.”
As the glasses meet, the sound rings out like a promise—a quiet, unspoken vow to figure this out, to build something real.
6
SOPHIE
Itake a deep breath, wiping my arm across my face. Ethan’s words still echo in my mind, sharp and jagged, cutting deeper than I want to admit.
You can’t just come back and expect everything to be the same.
He’s right, of course. I know he’s right. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Part of the reason I came back was to make things right, to apologize for the choices I made and the people I hurt. I owe it to Ethan—and myself—to try. Aunt Claire always said that apologies don’t have to taste good; they just have to be made with heart. Straightening my shoulders, I take another steadying breath and head for the door. My feet are heavy, but my resolve keeps me grounded.
Racing down the stairs, I open the front door, my chest tightening as the humid air rushes in. I’m vaguely aware that the storm passed, and a million raindrops glisten in the sudden burst of sun. I’m so focused on chasing after Ethan that I don’t see the figure stepping onto the porch until I collide with him.
“Oh!” I stumble backward, my cheeks flushing as I lose my balance. Nearly landing flat on my ass.
Strong hands catch me before I can fall, steadying me with an effortless grace that sends a jolt through my system. “Careful there,” a deep, smooth voice says, warm and teasing.
I look up, startled, into warm amber eyes that seem to glow even in the muted light. He’s tall, and broad-shouldered, radiating an easy confidence that makes me feel immediately off balance in more ways than one. He may be the most beautiful and rugged man I have ever seen. And with one look at his expression, I know that he knows it.
His sun-kissed skin and rugged stubble give him a rakish look that says mothers should lock up their daughters—but there’s something real and grounding about him, too.
“Sorry,” I stammer, brushing my hands down my sides to steady myself. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No harm done,” he says with a grin, his voice laced with humor as his gaze lingers on mine. “Though I’d say you pack a bit of a punch for someone….” and instead of voicing his comment, he brings his hand up to about his mid-chest. indicating my height.
His teasing disarms me, and for a moment, I’m not sure what to say. “I—uh—” I stammer, still in his thrall, his scent wrapping around me, my body betraying me before I can stop it. I step into the circle of his arms, my cheek nuzzling his chest and my body pressing into his.
The brief contact sends a jolt of awareness through me, and I realize, too late, that I’ve leaned into him. My reaction was subtle but unmistakable, like my Omega instincts reached out before my brain could intervene.
The moment stretches, his warm, amber eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak. His arms come around me, and I hear a low, deep hum coming from him.
Brodie’s lips twitch into a grin, sharp and knowing, like he’s fully aware of what just happened and is fully willing to take advantage of it.
Clearing my throat, I force myself to take a step back, trying to salvage my composure. “Sorry,” I mumble, my cheeks heating furiously. “Didn’t mean to…”
Leaning down so his lips are near my ear “Don’t apologize,” he says smoothly, his voice dipping lower, as if it’s just for me. “I don’t mind at all.”
My heart skips a beat, and I push out of his arms, my heart feeling like it’s outside of my chest. I’m fumbling to find something—anything—to say to distract me from the sudden heat flooding my core.
