Page 81 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
We head back the way we came and end up next to the children’s section. Angel and Hardy start on a conversation about the merits of Star Wars bedsheets over Superman and I growl at them in frustration, before spotting a salesman and ordering him to escort us to the adult bedding.
The man doesn’t hang about once he’s delivered us to the section and we stare at it in disbelief. There are enough sheets in here to make up every bed on the fucking Las Vegas strip.
“What the fuck,” Angel says, scratching at his beard. “Fucking Molly.”
“What do you think she’d like?” I ask, pulling out one sheet and then another.
“Something soft,” Hardy says.
“They’re all soft, asshole,” I say.
“Yeah, but these ones smell funny,” Hardy says, sniffing a pale cream sheet.
Next moment, we’re all sniffing sheets, until we have half a dozen that aren’t offensive to our noses.
“I think we should get a variety,” Angel says. “She’s probably going to want soft, but deep in her heat, there might also come a time when she needs …” he swallows, “rough.”
“Fuck yeah,” Hardy growls.
“Okay,” I say, trying to drag them back to focus. “Let’s get a selection then, and head for clothing.”
The fairy lights and lamps are easier to find, although we waste far too much time debating the merits of different cushions. Hardy finds a bean bag which isn’t on the list but insists we buy it.
“Imagine bending her over this and fucking her from behind.”
I glare at him. Paint-balling would have been so much safer.
Silver calls me as we take our collection to the cash register and explains what the other items are. I’m so distracted by the description of the various sex toys we need to find that I don’t notice the giant teddy bear Nate adds to the pile. Not until everything’s been paid for.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask.
“A teddy,” he says, cradling the thing in his arms. The thing is almost as tall as he is and a lot rounder.
“It’s ugly as fuck,” Hardy says.
Nate looks at him with those murderous eyes, and Hardy holds up his hands in surrender.
“It’s not for you is it, asshole,” Nate says. “It’s for Bea.”
I stare at my packmate.
I don’t think I’ve ever known him to buy a gift for an omega. Sure, he tips the strippers handsomely, and always buys my mom a bunch of daisies on her birthday, but that’s as far as he’s ever gone.
Now he’s baking cakes and buying giant teddies.
“What the hell has happened to you, man?” I ask.
“Bea,” he says simply.
I know what he means. If it wasn’t for Bea, I wouldn’t be here standing in a department store buying fluffy towels and pink cushions with my estranged younger brother.
But I realize as we ride the escalator down to the ground floor in search of Connor and Silver, that I’m actually enjoying myself. I miss this camaraderie between the six of us. I miss my brother and his unswerving focus. I miss Silver and his careful analysis. I even miss Hardy’s stupid jokes.
“Come on, boys,” I say, slapping Angel on the shoulder, “let’s go buy some vibrating bunnies.”
Exactly two hours after we left, we’re back at the van. It looks like Molly’s spent the hours shopping herself; several bags litter her feet. She beckons us to pass over our goods and one by one ticks them all off the list.
“So you found the knotted dildos, then?” she says, holding a purple one up to show us all.
