“Truth is,” I whisper, “I’d be more than happy to name our pack after Zayne. The Shaw pack.”
“The Shaw pack.” Grey nods. “It has a ring to it.”
Zayne’s dark eyes shine. “You know I don’t care what we call the pack.”
“Still.” I smile at him. “You brought us together, Zayne Shaw. You’re our top alpha. It makes sense. It fits.”
We fit. And I know, okay? I know love takes time to build. That this jolting strike of attraction and affection is nothing more than that. It’s a spark, where love is a fire. But a spark can turn into a fire, right? If you fan it. If you feed it. If you really like and want one another.
And I think my heart already knows. My brain may still need reasons and time, but my heart must have known from the start that this park would become a wildfire.
NINE WEEKS LATER
37
GIGI
Life has fallen into a new pattern, a new shape. We have all gone back to our jobs and activities, or tried to. It’s all so new, and we want to do things together, take each other’s measure, figure out how we fit.
I like observing the guys cook, and also helping them, learning.
I like watching Casey work on his tattoo designs and offer ideas.
I like having Zayne as my trainer at the gym, and now Grey joins us quite often. Casey and Ronin sometimes, too, depending on the class. Casey goes more for yoga and Pilates. Grey likes martial arts and spinning. Ronin is into weight lifting.
We’re all so different and yet, somehow, strangely, we have come together and enjoy each other and… and the more time I spend with them, the more I like them.
Even the thought of them makes me smile—at work, during biology class, on the phone with my mom to whom I still haven’t told much—or at the gym.
I haven’t met with the girls yet, either.
Sophie has been away and I sent her a quick message, saying we have to talk, but that Ronin, Casey and I may be moving out soon.
It’s the most probable scenario, but I guess I’m taking my time telling people about this. It’s not quite a fear that we may not work out as a pack but the newness of it. I want to keep it secret for a while longer, feel that giddiness I remember feeling as a kid when I got a new toy.
It feels shiny new and yet familiar, exciting and yet cozy and perfect.
So sue me, if you like, for keeping all this to myself for now. My excuse is that I’m waiting to see if it works out before I spring the news on everyone. Kinda like when you’re pregnant and you wait until the first trimester is over?
Speaking of which… I swallow my birth-control pill with a sip of water and contemplate the package. It’s good that I’m on the pill, right? Haven’t had much sex in the past two years, but now the dry spell is definitely broken and we’re not ready for babies yet, are we?
Allow me to take a moment and quietly freak out over the fact that I’m sitting here, contemplating babies. I’m not a baby-prone omega, gushing over babies, dreaming about babies, preparing all my life for babies. That was never my scene.
It seems to be now, though, because the thought of babies itself doesn’t freak me out. The opposite, in fact: it makes me smile.
Holy shit.
Though, hang on, hold your horses. It’s only been two months as a pack, give or take. I’m not going to dive headfirst into serious business at this point.
I don’t even know if the boys want babies.
That’s a sobering thought. That I know so little about their desires and dreams of the future. But I intend on getting to know them more, see if our dreams can fit together, just like our bodies do every night.
So I pat my pills, put them back in my purse. Try to think when I restarted taking them—I mean there was no point for the past year and a half in freezing my uterus, was there? I think I restarted them after Zayne cornered me at the gym and made me come just by pressing his hard-on between my legs, even though we were dressed?
Nah, I think it was after I went down on Ronin in his room.
It was as if a sixth sense told me I was well on my way to having actual sex again.