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In reality, all I said was, “No.”
Theo sputters. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘no’? Have you lost your ever-loving mind? This is our omega. Our scent-match. She’s perfect for us.”
I roll my eyes, dropping my head back to thump against the kitchen cabinets behind me. We’re back where we started yesterday; gathered in a tense circle around the island while we talk about this random woman. Again.
“I mean,” I growl, staring up at the ceiling. “Who is this person? None of us even know her! And she has us breaking all of our goddamn rules? Lying to get a job at the facility she isn’t even supposed to be allowed in? Now she’s in our house? Driving a wedge between all of us?”
“You’re the one doing that,” Archer argues, quiet but deadly. “We all agree. The three of us want to court her. You’re the problem here, Declan.”
I hate it when Archer makes sense. Which is always.
Seriously; what the fuck can I say to that? He’s right. I am the problem. Just like I was the problem last season when I got hurt. And the season before that, when I blew the championship to hell.
But, like I said, I like to fight.
“How the hell am I the problem when she’s the one lying, scheming?—”
“Enough,” Ronan barks. “Meg may have lied, but we haven’t even asked her why. Stop accusing her of shit when we don’t know the circumstances.”
“We have to make sure she knows we aren’t mad,” Theo interrupts, desperate. “We should make her dinner. Invite her to stay.”
The pain creasing his green eyes looks all wrong on him. Theo’s the carefree, happy one around here. I don’t know how to react to this new, earnest side of him. It doesn’t creep me out, exactly, but it makes me uncomfortable for some reason.
I snort at him, “Whipped already? You took one goddamn elevator with this bitch.”
Theo’s brows drop into an angry V just as a snarl erupts from Ronan, “Declan—Shut. Up.”
His bark pins my lungs inside my chest. I go to speak, but everything wads up in the middle of my throat, choking me. Instead, I glare at our pack leader until his returning stare spears me into submission.
Goddamn it.
I’m outvoted, and I know it. Why can’t I just let them have this? They can court whoever they want, the same way I did. And they can fall on their faces, the same way I did.
So fuck it, I think. Let them simp for her all they want.
Because there’s no way this chick is the one for us.
I shove off the counter. “Fine, make her dinner. But count me out.”
chapter
seventeen
“Miss Reed, I presume?”
This woman has to be a kick-ass grandma. She just has that look—round, rosy cheeks, a no-nonsense haircut, and the sort of sweet warmth that reminds me of Remi’s chocolate-chip cookies.
I’m thankful she’s so welcoming because I have absolutely no idea what I’ve gotten myself into here.
But it seems like a lot.
“Uh-um…” I blink, trying to stay cool. “Yes, that’s me. I—I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone out here in the hallway.”
She smiles widely. “That’s quite all right, dearest. I hear you’ve been through an absolute ordeal today. The boys asked me to show you around the estate and make sure you’re comfortable.”
If I wasn’t so busy smiling at the way she calls a billionaire, a doctor, and two NFL players “the boys,” I might have a small panic attack over the phrase “around the estate.”
I suppose that’s what it is, though. I can tell just from taking two steps into the hall. The wide, white space is perfectly clean and full of natural sunlight. And I’m bedraggled at best.
