Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Maverick Reilly
On my way, Manny my Man-y
Bringing Gagey Boy
We’re gonna hang out like a proper pack
How do you know where I live?
I have my ways.
And by my ways, I mean an account on a public records lookup site
See you soon
It’s not that I don’t want to see my pack. I’d like to hang out with the guys. It would be good to get to know Maverick better and learn more about Gage as an adult.
But holy shit Maverick is a lot sometimes.
The knock on my front door comes faster than I expected.
Pain level: Five.
I can do this.
When I open the door, the other Alpha pushes past me, his arms full of paper grocery bags. Gage trails behind him with a sheepish smile on his face. “I tried to stop him,” he stage whispers. “But uh, you can see how that went.”
“Nope!” Maverick shouts, dropping the bags on my table. “This is a requirement. Pack bonding without our Omega naked between us.” He picks up one of the bags from the bottom and tips it over.
Craft supplies tumble across the tabletop.
There’s glue, glitter, gems, construction paper, and a mess of pipe cleaners. I pick up one of the tubes that rolls to the side of the table. “Puffy paint?” I ask.
Maverick grins and dumps out the other bag. Several white T-shirts fall out. “We’re making matching t-shirts!”
Gage chokes on a laugh and settles into a seat at my table. “Why?”
“Why? Because it’s fucking fun, that’s why! Haven’t you ever played with puffy paint?”
“Can’t say I have,” Gage remarks. “But won’t most of this stuff come off in the wash?”
“We’re not going to wash them! We’ll wear them a few times and then gift them to Crystal to keep in her nest for the smell.” The Alpha grabs a shirt and spreads it out on the table before humming as he looks through all the paint. “She’s going to love it.”
I pick up the glitter and put it on my counter. “Then let’s avoid the glitter. It’ll flake off and get all over the nest. It’ll mess up her pillows and blankets.”
The other Alpha chews on his lip, and his shoulders slump a little. Fuck, I hate when he gets dejected like that.
“It’s not that it’s a bad idea,” I tell him gently. “It’s only because it’s her nest. The gems and paint are going to be very cool.” I take one of the shirts and spread it out opposite him, grabbing a random paint tube.
“I don’t have a scent,” Gage says softly. “Me wearing the shirt will do nothing for her.”
Maverick waves his hand. “Psh, nope, you’re not getting out of this that easily. This is pack bonding time!”
It’s hard to say no to Mav. His enduringly positive attitude and zest for life are contagious, even if sometimes he takes it too far. He seems fairly receptive to being brought back by me, though.
“Okay, let’s play two truths and a lie,” Maverick announces as he paints a massive heart on the chest of his shirt. “I’ll go first. I’ve got six toes on one foot, I’ve never left the country, and I was the mascot in high school.”
“Dude, we’ve seen your feet before. You don’t have six toes.” Gage chuckles as he reaches for the gems. “But I’m not surprised at all that you were the mascot. What was the costume?”
“You’re looking at the Mighty Manatee, thank you very much.”
I nearly spit out my drink. “I have to see pictures. A manatee costume?” I struggle to picture Maverick’s head sticking out of a manatee’s body. “Was the costume heavy?”
“Oh, definitely. And it was hot as fuck. I swear I sweated out a cold once.” He starts gluing gems to the neckline of his shirt. “You’re up, Manny, my man-y.”
I never know what to say on these sorts of icebreakers. I don’t exactly do a lot because of my pain. But a good one comes to me, and I think I can stump the guys. “I brush my teeth in the shower, I love spiders, and I have never been to an arcade.”
Gage wrinkles his brow and stares at me. “I feel like I should know this.”
“You probably should, but it’s been over a decade, so I’ll give you a pass if you forgot.” I head to the kitchen and grab a bag of chips, dump them into a bowl, and put them between us. I feel like a t-shirt-making party needs snacks.
Maverick narrows his eyes at me, his stare intense as he tries to figure out my lie. “You love spiders. Wait. No. Never been to an arcade, final answer!”
I emulate a buzzer, and I’m surprised it doesn’t rattle my brain. “Unfortunately, you were right the first time. I’m terribly afraid of spiders.” I shudder at the thought. “Nothing should have that many legs.”
“By that logic, are you afraid of millipedes, octopuses, and squids?” Gage asks, leaning back in his chair and pulling the front two legs off the ground.
“Yes, anything more than four legs is going to make my skin crawl, but spiders are the worst.”
Maverick wrinkles his nose and leans forward, resting his chin on his elbows. “How have you never been to an arcade?”
“Sensory hell,” I tell him honestly. “The sounds, the lights, it’s migraine fuel. By the time I was old enough to want to go, I wasn’t willing to risk it.”
“How am I going to beat you in Dance Dance Revolution if we can’t go to an arcade?” the other Alpha laments. “I wanna show off to our Omega!”
“You can go without me.” I grab a handful of chips. “I’m used to missing out on stuff because of my pain.”
Maverick shakes his head. “No, that’s not right. We’re not going to do stuff as a pack that you can’t participate in. It’d be like us going on a bakery and brewery tour and leaving Gage behind.”
“No one wants to be in the same room as me if I have that much gluten,” he says, rubbing his stomach. “I’d melt the paint off the walls.”
“Exactly!” Maverick slams his hand on the table. “So if we wouldn’t do that to Gage, we’re not going to go to a venue that we can’t bring you, either. It’s the same thing.”
My heart warms at his consideration. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Mav. Really.”
“Yeah, that’s the kind of thing a lead Alpha says,” Gage says teasingly.
Maverick shakes his head rapidly, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “No, thank you, that’s too much responsibility—so much paperwork. I’d be the one having to fill out our taxes and shit. Fuck, no one wants me to have power of attorney over them. I’d be the one who would have to answer any legal summons. I’m sure I’ll be the cause of the summons, so no way I should be the one answering them.” He caps his paint and looks down at his shirt, considering it for a moment. When he picks up a tube of blue paint, he continues. “It should be Manny. Level-headed. He’s power of attorney coded.”
“Power of attorney coded?” I ask, capping the silver paint I was using. “What does that even mean?”
“Like, I’d trust you to unplug me if you needed to, is all.”
“Why the fuck am I unplugging you?”
Maverick shrugs and shoves a handful of chips in his mouth, speaking around the crunching. “I dunno, probably because of whatever legal summons I caused.”
The red-headed Beta nearly falls out of his chair laughing, and it’s so contagious that Maverick and I join in.
We work diligently on our shirts, and when we’re done and Maverick is satisfied with our work, I transfer them to my laundry room to dry on the ironing board. When I come back, Gage is staring at his phone.
“Puck texted me,” he says. “Crystal’s had a rough night.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as Maverick runs across the room, leaning over Gage’s shoulder and reading his phone screen. “What happened?”
He holds up the phone to me.
Puck
Do you think you guys can go over to Crystal’s place? It’s been a really busy night and some shitty customers.
Nothing dangerous. She’s just frustrated and a little beat down and could use her pack.
You’re her pack. Why don’t you take care of her?
It’s not my place. I haven’t earned that right yet.
Can you be there or not? She’ll be done here in about two hours.
I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten until I read that text. The night went by quickly. I usually never stay up this late.
“Why’d you ask him to take care of her?” I ask Gage, handing him his phone back.
“I wanted to see what he’d say. I don’t have a good read on the guy yet, but I trust him with her. I don’t think he’d ever purposefully do anything that would truly hurt her.” Maverick sinks next to Gage on the couch and rests his head on the Beta’s shoulder, taking the phone from him and staring at it.
“Didn’t leaving her in the Conglomerate hurt her?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yeah, I guess, but all of us can admit that there were Omegas at a higher risk of danger than Crys. Not now that he’s proven he’s not above hurting her and giving her away…” Gage shakes his head as if clearing it of fog. “I can’t let my feelings for what happened in the past overlook what he’s currently doing.”
It makes my stomach churn, but I understand where Gage comes from. Having Puck there with Crystal does make me feel better despite everything.
“How did he get your number?” Maverick asks. “Did you give it to him?”
“Nope,” the Beta responds, ruffling Mav’s hair. “He just texted me one day. I’m assuming he’s got some sort of mob hookup.”
“Or a public records lookup database account,” I say, nudging Maverick with my toe. “Maybe you two have more in common than you’d think.”
Gage texts Puck that we’ll head over, so we gather the shirts and pile into Maverick’s car.
It doesn’t escape my notice that he made two, and one of them has a ‘P’ right over the heart.