Page 36 of Pack Frenzy
“Breakfast,” I repeat, because I’m generous. “Put on pants. Or don’t. Your call. Just don’t scare the omelets.”
He laughs, head tipped back. It hits my skin the way good whiskey goes down—warm, a little dangerous. “Bossy.”
“And you like it,” I throw over my shoulder, which earns me a bark of laughter that follows me down the hall.
By the time I make it back, Eli has a third plate ready, and Rowan’s finished the crossword and is halfway through his plate. I reclaim my stool and my coffee, trying to pretendmy heart didn’t sprintbecause a sleeping Alpha grabbed my wrists and my body sent a thank-you note.
Trying not to admit I wanted him to hold on longer. That I didn’t want him to stop.
Eli pushes the salsa toward me. “All good?”
“Yeah. He’s alive and threatened with pants.”
Rowan’s mouth twitches. “That will slow him down.”
Cassian appears a minute later in joggers that hang low on his hips, giving me full view of his chiseled chest and back with tattoos that tell me they aren’t just for show. That he’s lived a hard life and paid his dues. He’s combed his dirty blond hair with his fingers, and he pauses at the threshold, eyes flicking to mine, a quick once-over like he’s checking the edges.
He grabs a plate and sits at the table where he can watch me as I finish my food next to Eli.
We eat. It’s weird how quickly the silence becomes not-silence here—just the scrape of forks and the sigh of someone remembering they like food. Rowan tells me five unhinged facts about iguanas like a man laying down a trail of M&M’s. Eli asks me what my favorite food is, and I answer homemade lasagna, spicy.
Cassian finishes his food while I’m still picking at the last of mine. When he goes behind me, I glance back to see what he’s doing and goes to steal a bite, but I stab his fork with mine. He looks very proud of me for it.
“Good reflexes.”
“Better than most.” I hand him my plate with a fake smile. “Isn’t it your turn for dish duty?”
He laughs and shovels in the last of my omelet before taking my plate to the sink.
Eli glances at me, then away, like he’s working up to something. “So, uh, we usually do a house meeting on Sundays. Nothing formal—just checking in, meal planning, that kind of thing.” He drums his fingers once on the counter. “You’re welcome to join. Or not. No pressure.”
A house meeting. Like I’m part of the routine, not a guest with an expiration date.
Something in my chest cracks open—not breaks, butopens, like a window sealed shut for too long. My eyes burn, and I stare down at my coffee because if I look at Eli’s careful, hopeful face I’m going to cry, and I haven’t cried in front of anyone since the day they told me about Sabrina.
The push rears up, loud and familiar:You don’t belong here. You’ll ruin this. You always do.
But underneath it, quieter, the pull whispers back:What if you don’t? What if they mean it?
I take a breath. Let it out slowly.
“That sounds nice,” I say, and my voice only shakes a little.
When I look up, Rowan’s eyes are on mine, steady and kind, but there’s also craving and desire that makes me remember last night and how I pleasured myself thinking of the three of them. I squeeze my legs together at the memory.
Eli plops down into Rowan’s lap, but both of them are watching me to see if I’ll run, if I’ll cringe. I don’t do either cause they look good together and yet both of them fill me with longing to know their touch, their kiss, how they’d handle me and each other in the bedroom.
Cassian kicks my stool with his foot, gentle, teasing me, and I feel like what happened in his bedroom feels like a secret just between us for now.
“By the way,” Cassian puts the salsa in the fridge, “consider this me being selfless: Eli hoards recipes and knives, Rowan hoards facts and quiet, I hoard motorcycles and trouble. You…?”
“Exit strategies,” I say without thinking. Then I look up. “And lemon bars.”
Eli lights up. “We have the good lemons. There’s even a lemon tree in the backyard. I’ll show you later.”
And Cassian takes a long pull on his coffee, eyes on mine over the rim, like we’re doing a dare.
So I down mine too.
