Page 89 of Pack Choice
“About what?” I ask, surprised by her question.
“Your situation.”
“My situation? I already told you, it was a no for Pack Sensible.”
“But Ford?” she asks. “And Colten Turner? And River Caspian.”
“What about them?” I’ve already confessed to Ava about the night I spent with Ford and about my encounter with both Colt and River. She’s the only one who knows.
Ava nudges me. “Do all three of those guys do funny things to your insides?”
I sigh. She knows they do. She knows just how hot I find all three. “Yes, but what does it matter?”
“Maybe a pack isn’t what you need, Moll. Maybe you could have just one alpha. Your Mom chose just one.”
I shake my head. “My dad was different. He always wanted a pack. He just never found one. These guys, they’re different. They don’t want it. And I … I can’t trust that. I’m not even sure I can trust them,” I say, thinking again of Colt’s reluctance to take me home. “No. I’ve decided. I’m going to get a cat.”
“A cat?” Ava frowns.
“Yeah, want to help me find one? It’s got to be easier than finding a pack.”
* * *
It turnsout finding a cat is just as hard, if not harder. We drive out to the cat shelter on the edge of the city. But the three cats in there all take an instant dislike to me, hissing with their claws out if I come anywhere near them.
“It’s probably your scent,” the elderly woman assigned to cat duty explains, as I watch a ginger tom slide right up to Ava and demand ear tickles.
“Humph,” I say, “story of my life.”
“You’d probably be better off with a kitten. Their sense of smell isn’t quite as developed and they usually grow to love the human before the scent.”
Next, we cruise around all the pet stores in the city, hunting for kittens. But either the stores have no cats or they’ve already been reserved.
“Internet?” Ava suggests.
“I suppose,” I say. Finding a cat was meant to make me feel better about the lack of a pack, not worse.
We end up back at Ava’s house, me scrolling the personal adverts for kittens, while Ava goes back through her notes on packs.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering,” I say.
“Because you want to find a pack, and I love you, so I want to find one for you.”
“I told you. I’ve given that up. I want a cat.”
“I’m not sure you’re a cat person.”
“What?” I say, lifting my gaze from my phone. “Ava Jones take that back this instant.”
She giggles. “I’m sorry, Moll, but you saw how those cats reacted to you.”
“I don’t understand why,” I say with a pout, “I’d treat them like little princes, I’d let them snuggle up with me in my bed. I’d bake them little kitty treats.”
“Jeez,” Ava says, “we really need to find you a pack.”
I bump my shoulder against hers and my phone beeps in my hand.
I look down at my messages and let out an involuntary squeak.
