Chapter 5 #2
CozyFan22: HELLO?? WHO IS THAT
HolidayVibes: THE WAY HE JUST TOUCHED HER WAIST OMG
StreamSniper: COZYLUKE HAS A GIRLFRIEND???
LukesOmega: my username is suddenly ironic
"Got them," Lucas said softly, still not moving away. "You okay?"
"Fine," I managed, very aware of the cameras and the thousands of viewers and the fact that my carefully maintained professional distance was crumbling in real time.
I stepped back, and Lucas let me go immediately, respectful of boundaries even while his eyes said he wanted to pull me closer.
"Thanks, Michelle!" Bill said cheerfully, and I fled back to the dining table.
My phone buzzed immediately. Sasha.
Sasha: I'M WATCHING THE STREAM. THAT KITCHEN MOMENT??? MICHELLE.
Michelle: It was nothing. Professional assistance.
Sasha: That was absolutely something and you know it.
I put my phone face-down and tried to focus on work, but I could feel Ro's camera occasionally drifting my direction. Not lingering, he was too professional for that, but capturing moments. Building a story.
The stream continued, Bill and Lucas rolling out dough, cutting shapes, talking about holiday traditions. Josh was in the background asking questions, learning about content creation, and Lucas was patient and encouraging with him.
"Your brother's great," Lucas told the camera. "Really smart questions about streaming. Might have a future content creator here."
Josh practically glowed.
And I felt my walls crumble a little more.
This was what I'd been afraid of. Not just being with the pack, but letting them into my life. Into my family. Watching them fit so seamlessly that it became harder to imagine them leaving.
"Michelle, what do you think about these?" Bill called, holding up two cookie cutter shapes. "Star or tree for the first batch?"
I looked up, and everyone was watching me, Bill and Lucas at the counter, Josh nearby, and thousands of viewers through the camera.
"Tree," I said, making the decision. "The star can be the top decoration later."
"Perfect. See, Lucas? This is why Michelle's the best manager in the business. Always thinking three steps ahead."
The chat liked that.
CozyFan22: confirmed: mystery woman IS his manager
HolidayVibes: pack dynamics?? anyone else getting those vibes??
StreamSniper: the way they look at each other I SHIP IT
I tried to ignore the speculation and go back to work, but it was impossible.
The kitchen smelled like gingerbread and vanilla and cedar, and Lucas kept glancing at me like I was the most interesting thing in the room, and Ro was filming with that careful attention that meant he was capturing something meaningful.
"Cookies in the oven," Bill announced. "While those bake, let's talk decoration strategy. Michelle, you're artistic, want to show Lucas your grandmother's icing technique?"
"I'm working."
"Come on, mija," Bill coaxed. "Five minutes. For your grandmother's legacy."
That was playing dirty, and he knew it.
I closed my laptop with a sigh and rejoined them at the counter. The chat feed went crazy, but I tried to ignore it.
"Okay," I said, pulling over the bowl of royal icing. "The technique is all about pressure control. You want consistent flow, but you need to be able to vary the thickness for details."
I demonstrated, and Lucas watched with complete focus, not just watching the technique, but watching me. His eyes were soft and warm and completely devastating.
"Like this?" he asked, trying to copy my movement.
"Almost. Here—" I reached out to adjust his grip on the piping bag, and our fingers touched.
The contact sent a spark through me, and I saw Lucas's eyes darken slightly. We were close again, leaning over the same cookie, and the domesticity of it was overwhelming.
This was what pack looked like. Cooking together, creating together, existing in each other's space like it was natural and right.
"Perfect," I managed, stepping back.
"Thanks." His voice was low, just for me. "For showing me."
"It's just icing."
"It's your grandmother's legacy. That's not nothing."
The cookies came out of the oven, perfectly golden, filling the kitchen with that warm spice scent. We decorated on camera, Bill telling stories, Lucas engaging with chat, and somehow I ended up staying. Not working, not hiding, just... being present.
At one point, Lucas reached for the same cookie cutter I was reaching for, and our hands collided. We both froze, and the moment stretched, his hand over mine, both of us very aware of the touch, the connection, the heat.
"Sorry," he said, but he didn't immediately pull away.
Neither did I.
The chat went absolutely feral.
CozyFan22: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
HolidayVibes: THAT HAND TOUCH I'M SCREAMING
StreamSniper: JUST KISS ALREADY
"Cookies look great," Ro said pointedly, breaking the moment. "Bill, want to show us the final plating?"
Professional save. Thank god for Ro.
We finished decorating, arranged the cookies beautifully, and Lucas wrapped up the stream with his signature warmth.
"Thanks so much for joining us today, Cozy Crew. Special thanks to Bill for sharing his wife Janet's amazing recipe, and to the Rodriguez-Williams family for their hospitality. You're all wonderful, and we'll see you next stream!"
"Ending in three... two... one..." Dex counted down.
The cameras shut off, and the kitchen erupted in chaos.
"That was AMAZING," Josh announced. "Lucas, can we review the analytics? I want to see the engagement metrics—"
"Josh, let them breathe," Maya said, but she was grinning. "Although yeah, that was really good content."
Bill was already pulling up the chat replay on his phone, laughing at viewer comments. "They're asking when you're coming back. And whether Michelle is your girlfriend."
"She's my manager," Lucas said automatically, but his eyes met mine across the kitchen. "And someone I respect very much."
The way he said it, like there was so much more he wanted to say but couldn't, made my chest ache.
"I need to work," I announced, grabbing my laptop. "Good stream. Very professional. Nice content."
I fled upstairs before anyone could comment on how not-smooth that exit had been.
I made it approximately fifteen minutes before there was a knock on my door.
"Go away, Maya."
"Not Maya," Ro's voice. "Can I come in?"
I should have said no. Should have maintained boundaries, kept distance, protected myself.
"Yeah, come in."
He entered, closing the door behind him, and leaned against it. He'd taken off his baseball cap, and his dark hair was slightly messed up. He looked good, too good for my mental state.
"You ran again," he observed.
"I retreated strategically."
"You fled because Lucas touched your hand and you felt something."
"I fled because chat was speculating about pack dynamics and it's complicated and I need time—"
"I know," he said gently. "I'm not criticizing. I'm checking in."
I sat on the bed, laptop forgotten beside me. "This is hard, Ro. Being professional while feeling... what I'm feeling. Watching you all fit into my family like you belong here. Seeing the stream numbers and knowing viewers are already shipping us and wondering what happens when word gets out."
"So talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling."
"I'm feeling overwhelmed. I'm feeling like my carefully controlled life is spiraling. I'm feeling like this morning with you on the mountain was perfect and terrifying and I almost let you kiss me and I still don't know if that would have been a mistake."
"Would it have been?"
"I don't know!" I stood, pacing. "That's the problem.
I don't know if this is real or just biology.
I don't know if we're compatible beyond pheromones.
I don't know if I can balance pack and career.
I don't know anything except that I'm scared and confused and I really, really wanted you to kiss me on that mountain. "
Ro's expression softened. "Michelle—"
"And downstairs just now, with Lucas, decorating cookies? That felt right. It felt like pack. Like home. And that terrifies me because what if I let myself have this and then it falls apart? What if I lose my business trying to make this work? What if I lose myself in pack dynamics?"
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I know you." He moved closer, slowly, giving me space to retreat. "I've watched you for six months. I've seen how you work, how you think, how you protect the things that matter to you. You're not going to lose yourself, Michelle. You're too stubborn."
Despite everything, I laughed. "That's not romantic."
"It's honest. You're stubborn and driven and fiercely independent. Pack isn't going to change that. It's going to support it."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because we don't want to change you. We want to be part of your life as it already exists. We want to support your career, not undermine it. We want to catch you when you stumble, not keep you from walking. Besides, did it change Callie?"
He had me there. I sank back onto the bed. Instead of answering his question I told him, "You keep saying the exact right things."
"I'm observant. It's my job." He sat beside me, close but not touching, respecting my space. "Michelle, what happened downstairs? The hand touch, the moment? That was real. The viewers saw chemistry because there is chemistry. You can't fake that kind of connection."
"That's what I'm afraid of. If viewers can see it, clients can see it, competitors can see it. My whole professional reputation is built on being objective and unbiased. If people think I'm using pack bonds to keep you exclusive—"
"Then we show them the truth. That you're brilliant at your job, pack bond or not. That we chose you as manager because you're the best, not because of the bond. That the bond is an addition to our professional relationship, not the foundation of it."
"That's a nice story. I'm not sure the industry will believe it."
"Then we make them believe it. Together." He reached out, stopping just short of touching my hand. "Can I?"