11. Alistair
Thank fuck for long holiday breaks. It means I have to make a lot of obnoxious excuses not to visit with my family since there’s actually time to travel, but it also means I can spend time at home with my pack, just relaxing and catching up.
All of our schedules have been so busy lately that I miss being around them.
I finish packing my messenger bag with everything I’ll need to take out of my office over the two-week break.
Verifying that I haven’t left any dishes around, or snacks that Paul insists on bringing by.
There are no old coffee cups sitting about, and no students have left anything that they’ll “desperately need” over the break.
Not that they’d be able to get into the building anyway, but better to be safe than sorry.
An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, as they say. Or, in this case, checking in advance means that I can ignore any emails over the holiday period. Who knows, maybe I’ll even be able to make a dent in my Tbr pile.
Ha, yes, that’ll happen.
Since all Spence and Paul ever give me for Christmas are gift cards to the bookstore, I don’t think I have a chance in hell of making it through my list anytime soon. Not that that’s a bad thing, but it does mean I sometimes forget what I wanted to read after a certain amount of time passes.
It also means that whatever house we eventually settle on will need to have room for a library, or at least massive amounts of bookshelves.
Though to be fair, I think all houses should have room for a library.
Just my novels alone would fill up several bookcases.
I’m starting to believe that’s why I warranted one of the bedrooms over Spencer, despite my smaller size and lateness in joining their pack.
No one else wants to deal with all my stacks of books.
It currently looks a bit like a hoarding situation, but that’s just because I haven’t found a place to put them yet, so there are several incredibly heavy boxes lining the walls of my bedroom.
I still have a pathway to make it to the door, though, at least on one side.
In retrospect, it might become imperative that we look for a house over this break. We’ve saved up a considerable sum for a down payment. Not enough to purchase outright, but it can’t hurt to look.
Despite now living in the south, the cold wind this time of year feels like it cuts right through my winter coat and trousers as I scurry across campus to the faculty parking area.
It’s actually a part of the student lots; however, it has different colored lines to denote it being for faculty.
That doesn’t stop students from leaving their cars here, but it does mean a ticket from the university’s patrol officers if they see it happen.
It’s extremely frustrating, especially considering how much they charge for a parking permit just to work here.
I toss my bag into the car and turn it on, waiting for the ragged beast to warm up enough that the heater will actually work.
This contraption is older than most of my students, but I’m uncharacteristically attached to it.
It moved me halfway across the country when I decided to leave the suffocating embrace of my family, the painful betrayal of my pack, and the woman who would never be my omega—heading off into parts unknown with nothing but the clothes on my back and the knowledge in my head…
or at least whatever I could quickly fit in the frunk.
Younger me thought it was very adventurous; current me sees that I was an idiot and things could have gone exponentially worse.
I never expected to end up in Mississippi, but that’s life, I guess. Finding a new pack was also a surprise since I swore I would never join another. Still, if it hadn’t been for the efforts of an overly charismatic student who I first believed to be a complete moron, we wouldn’t be where we are.
It shames me now to think that I was waiting—impatiently—for Spencer to flunk out of my class.
He just seemed so ditzy at first. Not that it’s a bad thing, just not something that contributes to a higher learning degree.
I was even more shocked when I learned he hoped to be a teacher.
Part of me wanted to console the big idiot and tell him that wasn’t an option.
It took months of his persistent attempts to get to know me before I realized how smart he actually is.
It’s not that he’s duplicitous in his appearance or behavior; he just seems so na?ve.
And in some ways, he is—born to and raised by beta parents with four beta sisters, the big man has no idea how to be an alpha.
But damnit, he tries. He’s pretty much blown every first impression out of the water since we met.
Well, most of them. There are some initial thoughts that have persisted because they were accurate.
I still don’t know how he would manage to feed and care for himself if he lived alone.
He would probably be hospitalized within a month from several nutritional deficiencies.
The man thinks gummy bears and frozen burritos make up the entire food pyramid.
Oh, and rice now. Plain white rice, sometimes with sugar on it.
Ugh, that sounds so gross.
My body gives an unbidden shiver at the thought of our youngest pack member’s cooking.
If you can call it that. I need to enroll him in some cooking classes, at least online ones.
Not that I plan on him ever being without me or Paul, but he should at least know how to boil water without setting himself on fire.
I don’t think he’s done that yet, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Actually, cooking classes might make an excellent holiday gift idea.
That way he’ll feel obligated to attend, and everyone should know how to cook the basics.
This is an excellent plan, if I do say so myself.
That still leaves Paul that I need to shop for.
I don’t actually like waiting until the last minute to get gifts.
In fact, it stresses me the hell out, making me worry that I won’t be able to find anything thoughtful, but these men can be difficult to shop for.
Add in all of Paul’s stress over the events from earlier this year and the investigation from aforementioned events.
I understand why he took responsibility, but I’m also incredibly cross with him for it.
I don’t want my pack to be in trouble for the actions of a complete sociopath.
Ok, that’s not fair, Xan probably isn’t a sociopath.
He just has…flexible morals based around those people he considers important.
He also happens to consider the same beta that Spencer has been so enamored with like a younger sister.
Which is ironic, really, since the girl doesn’t belong to either of our packs.
Still, Spencer would have been devastated had something happened to her, and we didn’t realize his level of obsession until after the fact.
Maybe I could get Paul some vouchers for a nice spa day and massage.
Mercy knows that his hands are nothing but calluses.
A manicure would do him a world of good and maybe help with some of the stress he’s under.
The poor man barely sleeps, and he always seems on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
Hopefully, something will be resolved soon so he can finally take a breath.
The radio stations between work and home suck, and my car isn’t new enough to have Bluetooth.
Hell, it isn’t new enough to have a CD player.
I should have turned on my portable speaker and playlist from my phone before I left work.
Between the warmth from the heater and the long day preparing for break, I’m feeling a bit droopy, and my jaw cracks loudly when I yawn—I’m still waiting to just get out of the parking lot. Which is altogether unpleasant.
My dashboard clock is about the only part of this car that is reliable, and it reminds me that Paul should be getting off work soon.
I wonder if I should pick up dinner on the way home from one of the restaurants close to the college.
He and Spencer are probably going to be hungry, and I could try to work it as an apology for being such an asshole these last few weeks.
I’m always surly around the holidays, but combined with everything else, well, I really should say I’m sorry… somehow.
I pull into the strip mall parking lot that houses a large selection of college fare—from fast and cheap pho to fried chicken, there are five hole-in-the-wall restaurants and a laundromat just a few blocks from campus.
Flicking my eyes to the clock again, I had hoped to be closer to home now, but traffic is clogged with everyone trying to leave for the holidays, and just pulling out of the parking lot took too long.
Maybe grabbing food will allow for some of the congestion to clear out.
Taking out my phone, I dial Paul’s cell, and it rings four times before he finally answers.
“Sorry, Al. This isn’t a great time. Is there some kinda emergency?
That little clunker of yours finally bit the dust?
It’s gonna be a while before I can get there to pick you up… I’m…I’m kinda in a meeting right now.”
Shit.
“No. No, nothing like that. Nadine is fine, thanks for asking.” He snorts laughter at the name of my car, but she’s been good to me. Better than many. “I was just leaving campus and wanted to pick up dinner. I was going to ask what you’d like.”