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“They aren’t my boys.” I blush, my mind instantly going back to the conversation I had with Em/Leo two days ago.
Mackenzie’s laugh sounds downright musical, and I catch more than one alpha turning to look in our direction as we make our way through the different housing clusters.
“You okay if I leave you here? I’m heading down that way.” She stops a few houses down from Micah’s, pointing off toward another row of houses set further back in the neighborhood.
I nod.
“Okay, give me a call before you leave! I’m not sure how long I’ll be with Pack Sanders, but if timing aligns, we can walk back together.
She swoops in for a quick hug around my bags and then bounces off while I quickly finish walking the last few feet to the familiar house.
“Espy!” Micah is bounding down the steps before I’ve even had a chance to reach the front porch. He looks truly happy to see me, and I allow his excitement to wash over me and scrub away the lingering anxiety I felt on the walk over.
“Hey, Micah.” I grin.
He seems to go in for a hug but then pulls back with a jerk, instead reaching out and taking the bags off my hands. “Come on in! Cabe is so excited to have you in the kitchen he kicked me and Mason out hours ago. I wasn’t even allowed to have coffee,” he grumbles good-naturedly as he directs me inside.
“You’re such a liar!” I hear Cabe shout.
Looking up from taking off my shoes, I see the alpha is, indeed, standing in the middle of the kitchen as if he’s guarding it.
“About the coffee part,” he amends, sending me a warm smile. “Ihavebeen excited to cook with you.” He winks.
“Hey, Espy.”
I turn to see Mason coming down the stairs, looking a bit hesitant. Micah has moved off to the kitchen with my bags, so I end up wrapping my arms around myself awkwardly.
“Hey.”
“I can, uh, stay upstairs. Or clear out or whatever. I know the three of us might be a bit much. I just wanted to come say hi,” he states, coming to a stop in front of me. His hair looks a little wet, and his sawdust-and-juniper scent is slightly dampened by the smell of soap. He must have just gotten out of the shower.
“No— Uh, I mean ... yes. No. Yes, you can stay. No, you don’t have to hide upstairs.” I smack a hand against my face as I shake my head. The thought of him all wet really threw me off. “Sorry, I must need more caffeine or something,” I mutter as Mason just smiles at me.
“That I can do,” he says. Reaching up, he gently grabs my hand and pulls it away from my face, using it to tug me behind him as he makes his way into the kitchen.
If I thought full sentences were hard to form before, I doubt I’ll get any words out now that my hand is cradled inside his much larger one. I decide to just keep my eyes down as I shuffle behind him, scared at what my face might give away if his packmates happen to be watching me.
I’m soon settled on a seat at the breakfast bar, coffee in hand, watching as Micah and Cabe carefully pull out all the items I brought over. They’re mostly baking supplies, but I have some of my art stuff tucked in the tote bags as well.
“Wow, how big of a cake are we making?” Cabe questions, lining up all the ingredients along the counter. “It looks like you could feed a whole army with this stuff. How did you even manage to carry it all over here?” he questions, moving over to me and reaching out to teasingly squeeze my biceps.
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted to make!” I whine, laughing as I pull my arm away. “And don’t let looks deceive you. Lincoln has been working my butt off—carrying a few measly bags across campus is nothing.”
Cabe braces his arms against the counter and leans over, his eyes going to where I’m sitting.
“Looks to me like it’s still there. But maybe I should take a closer look,” he states nonchalantly, leaning over even further.
My face goes beet-red as my mouth drops slightly open, and I have to resist the useless urge to smack my hands over my butt. His gaze makes me squirm.
“Bro,” Mason groans, reaching out and shoving Cabe’s chest until he stumbles back a few steps.
“What?” he laughs, turning back to look at me. “Just making an observation.”
He’s so ridiculous and disarming I can’t help but smile back at him despite my embarrassment. If we’re being totally, one hundred percent honest, my butthasbeen looking pretty good lately. Having enough to eat and all the running and squats Lincoln’s been putting me through have the beginnings of a nice curve coming in.
I decide to be brave.
“Thanks,” I reply, straightening up in my seat and meeting his stare head-on.
