Page 22 of Holly Jolly Heat
"You watched?" My alpha preened. "I didn't see you in the chat."
"I was lurking. Anonymous mode." She looked down at her plate. "I wanted to see if you mentioned... anything."
"The market?" When she nodded, I said gently, "I haven't mentioned it on stream. That's your story to tell, not mine. I'd never out you without permission."
Her eyes met mine, surprised and grateful.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
The meal was chaotic and warm. Bill kept adding food to everyone's plates despite protests. Janet asked us questions about our work, our backgrounds, our plans. Josh wanted to know everything about streaming from equipment and software to content strategy and chat moderation. Maya made sly comments about pack dynamics that made Michelle glare at her.
It was loud and friendly and overwhelming, and I loved it.
This was pack. Not just the three of us, but family, messy and loving and unconditionally supportive. This was what Michelle had grown up with, what had shaped her, what she'd come back to when she needed safety.
And she was sharing it with us.
"So," Janet said as we finished eating, "I assume you boys want to talk to Michelle. About the situation."
"Mom," Michelle said, her cheeks flushing. "Can you not call it 'the situation'?"
"What should I call it? The fated pack bond that you're trying to navigate while maintaining professional boundaries?"
"That's so much worse."
"We do need to talk," Ro said diplomatically. "If Michelle's willing."
Everyone looked at Michelle. She looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her, but she nodded.
"Fine. Let's talk." She stood. "Living room. Just us. No audience."
"We'll clean up," Bill said quickly, already collecting plates.
"I wasn't going to eavesdrop!" Janet protested.
"Yes, you were," Michelle, Maya, and Josh said in unison.
We retreated to the living room, a cozy space with a fireplace, comfortable couches, and a massive Christmas tree in the corner. Michelle sat in an armchair, very deliberately not on the couch where we could sit beside her.
Boundaries. Right.
I took the couch with Ro and Dex, trying to look non-threatening. Hard to do when every instinct screamed to close the distance, to touch her, to confirm she was real.
"Okay," Michelle said, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Let's establish some ground rules."
"Ground rules are good," Dex agreed.
"First, I'm still your manager. Professionally, nothing changes until we figure out if this can even work."
"Agreed," Ro said.
"Second, slow. We take this slow. I'm not diving into a pack bond just because fate says we should. I need time to figure out if this is actually right."
"Also agreed," I said, even though my alpha was howling. Slow was torture, but Michelle needed slow, so slow it would be.
"Third, my business comes first. I've spent eight years building my reputation. I won't risk that, not even for..." She trailed off.
"Not even for us," Ro finished gently. "We understand."
