Page 80 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
“Angel?” she asks.
“No, we don’t.”
“So, if this Bea had decided to spend her heat with one of your packs, where exactly were you going to spend it?”
“My bed,” Nate says.
Molly crosses her arms. “What color are your bed sheets, Nate?”
“Black.”
She raises an eyebrow like she just scored a point.
“What’s wrong with black? It’s my favorite color.”
“Do you want your omega weeping with sorrow or joy?”
Nate grumbles something but lifts his phone to take another look at the list.
“If you’re serious about wanting her back,” Molly says, “you need to show her that your intentions are serious too. That you have her best interests at heart. Not your own. Show her that you care. Which means, giving these items some consideration.” She pulls up a stopwatch app on the screen of her phone. “Right, your time starts … NOW!”
“Now?” I mutter.
But I don’t get to argue any further because Nate snaps open the van door and leaps out, Hardy bundling after him. Seems they are taking it seriously. Which means I’m going to too.
Before I know it all six of us are sprinting across the mall parking lot and through the main entrance. Here we skid to a stop.
“Where first?” Silver pants.
Connor holds up the list to his face. “I don’t know what half this crap is.”
“Then we need to be strategic about it.” The others nod in agreement, even fucking Nate. “Silver, Connor, take a seat and start researching the items we’re unfamiliar with. Angel, Nate, Hardy, let’s head for the department store first. We can grab most of the bedding and clothing items there.”
“We’ll check in with you in fifteen minutes,” Silver says, already scrolling through webpages. “Keep your phones on.”
We leave the other two hovering by the doors and sprint through the mall towards the department store. People jump out of our way, most giving us startled looks. We look like we’re on an army exercise. I’m not surprised.
“Are we under attack?” one woman asks, clutching her children to her chest.
“No, ma’am, just out shopping for our girl,” I tell her and she almost swoons at my feet.
I had no idea.
At the department store entrance there’s a long list of the different floors. I peer inside and it looks like a fucking maze.
“We’re going to need to stick together,” I say, grabbing Nate by the collar as he starts to deviate towards the lingerie on display. “That isn’t on the list,” I tell him.
“It should be.” I glare and he mumbles under his breath.
“Floor two,” Angel says, pointing to the sign, and we race to the escalator, Hardy not caring that the first one is traveling downwards and running up the thing anyway.
At the top of the stairs, we emerge into a world of furniture. About a dozen different beds crowd around us. “Where the fuck is the actual bedding?” I cry out in frustration.
“There!” Hardy yells, but when we reach the shelves he pointed at, we find towels instead.
“Get your eyes tested,” Angel mutters as Hardy scowls at him.
“We should get towels anyway,” Nate says. “Those big fluffy ones we can wrap her up in.” We’re all quiet for a moment, picturing that little image, and then Hardy grabs a handful and slings them over his shoulder.
