Page 77 of Pack Me Up
I laugh, but it comes out as more of a wheeze. “Like I’ve been run over by a truck, and the truck was very into marking territory.”
Oli cackles. “That’s what happens when you bond with an entire pack of alphas, Britt. I hope you’ve been hydrating. Tour starts tomorrow!”
I want to say something clever, but I can barely remember how to make words. “Hydrating. Right. I’ll add that to the list, right after ‘try not to pass out every time someone bites you.’”
Her shriek makes me smile.
“Then this conversation is perfectly timed! I just found out there’s a bus option without bunk beds and with a giant nest! Now that you’re bonded, which one do you want?”
I’m upright before my brain registers it. “Are you serious?”
“Yes! Does that mean you want it?” she asks.
My smile is huge as I respond. “Yes, please!”
“You’ve got it. Now, are you ready for tomorrow?”
I grip the phone until my knuckles ache. “What if I freeze up? I’m not you, Oli. I don’t know if I can…”
“Stop,” she says, and the word is soft, but impossible to disobey. “You can and you will. You’re already a fucking icon. Besides, Tommy’s going to be right there next to you, and if he messes up, nobody can tell because he’s so hot on stage. The crowd will eat out of your hand.”
I don’t respond. I can’t.
Oli picks up on the silence. “Listen to me, Britt. You’re ready. You wouldn’t be on the tour if you weren’t. And more importantly, you’ve got a whole pack behind you!”
I laugh, for real this time, and feel some of the tension drain out of my neck.
Oli hesitates, just for a breath. “Besides stage fright. Are you sure you’re okay? Like, for real? Last time we talked, you sounded… I don’t know. Haunted.”
I close my eyes, let the silence hang for a second. I want to say that I’m better, that the bonds made everything right, but the truth is messier than that.
“I’m getting there,” I say, voice thin but honest. “Some days are still hard, but it’s easier when they’re here. And when I talk to you, Riley, or Tommy.”
Oli’s smile is so bright I can hear it through the phone. “You’re tougher than you think, but you don’t have to prove anything to me, or anyone else. Not even tomorrow night.”
I nod, forgetting she can’t see me. “Thanks, Oli.”
“Anytime. Now go drink some water and tell Tommy to stop sleeping through my texts, or I’ll find him and spray him with a fire hose.”
I hang up and stare at the phone for a long minute. My chest feels lighter, my bones less like brittle glass. There’s a certainty in Oli’s voice that I believe.
The phone’s barely cold in my palm when I sense him. Hunter is standing in the doorway, arms braced against the frame, head tipped sideways like he’s debating whether to enter or just let the moment be. His hair’s a mess of black curls that glint off the light as purple, and his eyes are wide open, dark, and impossible to read.
I don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
He perches at the edge of the mattress, careful not to collapse the whole nest with his weight. The bed sags anyway, rolling me toward him, and I let it happen.
“So,” he says, picking at the edge of a pillowcase, “Oli’s got you set up for the tour?”
I nod, still a little high on adrenaline. “Yeah. There’s a fancy bus with a nesting suite, apparently.” I try for casual, but my fingers betray me; they’re twisted up in the hem of Saint’s shirt, clinging like I’ll fall if I let go.
Hunter grins, one dimple popping. “You’re gonna be a star, Britt. I hope you’re ready for all your fans. We are preparing to hold them back.”
The thought makes me choke. “No one is going to come to a meet-and-greet with me. Don’t be silly.”
He snorts. “You have no idea how famous you’re about to be.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart skips anyway.
