Page 178 of Knot Their Starlet

“Oh, yeah, these are...” I glance over at my shoulder, making eye contact with each of them.

“Are they your pack?” Edison asks.

I jerk my gaze back to him. His expression is open and curious, without a hint of judgement. My mom would never be this open-minded.

“Sort of,” I nod, my inner omega purring at the description. My gaze drifts back to Cameron, who’s staring at Edison like Superman just appeared. He did warn me he was a bit of a fanboy. “Cameron Foster here is helping Beck with the documentary series we’re filming. We actually just came from something for it. He’s a great videographer and journalist.”

The comment makes Cameron’s gaze jerk towards me with wide eyes. They sparkle with a childlike wonder, except now it’s directed toward me. My gaze drops, a little uncomfortable with the attention. Nothing I said was untrue.

“But the rest of the guys are...” the words still on my tongue.

I think this whole situation is a little weird, considering I’m introducing my dad to a whole gaggle of guys in the same breath as seeing him for the first time. Plus, whatever I have with them is still so new. Meeting the family seems like a big step.

“Her pack,” Beck finishes for me. He offers me a bright, reassuring smile, easing the initial panic from those two words.

My inner omega likes him reassuring me. Especially since... well, he’s supposed to be the omega at the center of us all, even if his relationships with the guys other than Eli aren’t.

I let out a soft sigh, some of the tension in my shoulders relaxing.

“Yeah, my pack,” I repeat, turning my attention back to my dad.

“Well then, this is a pleasant surprise! It sounds like we have a lot of catching up to do, Andi.”

“We do,” I nod. “Are you sure it’s okay if we come in? We did kind of just spring this on you.”

“I’ve been waiting eighteen years for you to make your way back home,” Edison says, his expression sobering a bit. “Of course it’s okay.”

He was... waiting for me? To come back?

I... believe him.

My mom would probably call me an idiot. She’d probably call him a manipulative liar and yell at me for falling for his schemes. She’d bring up all the times I’ve fucked up and use them as proof for why I can’t trust my instincts.

“How much do you remember about this place?” he asks as we step inside.

“Shoes off?” I ask, glancing down at his slippered feet.

“Yes—actually, nevermind, I don’t think I have enough slippers for everyone,” he says, walking over to a closet by the front entrance and digging through it.

“Oh, that’s fine, no need for⁠—”

The words die on my tongue when he lets out a sigh, shutting the door empty-handed. It’s what’s on the door that has the floor falling out from under me.

“Is that⁠—”

“Ah, yes, it is. Do you remember?” Edison says fondly, stepping aside so I can get a better view of the door.

It’s covered in finger-painted designs, some of the paint old and faded, chipping in certain areas. There’s a red heart, a few different styles of flowers in varying colors. A small, childlike palm. Each design is painted next to a height marker.

My height. From when I was a child.

Edison steps aside completely, letting me make my way to the door.

There are markers that must be from when I barely learned to stand. They barely come up to above my knee.

I crouch down once more, pressing my hand over the little handprint.

“I’ve renovated the place over the years,” Edison comments softly, “But I could never bring myself to change that door.”