Chapter 43
chapter
forty-three
Bridget named this chat Knotty Bitches
Bridget
SOS
Emma
another rut?
just remember to stay hydrated
Bridget
NO
They’re all being… nice.
Emma
…
oh boy.
Bridge, I’m not really sure how to tell you this. But…
that’s what men do when they like you. they’re *nice* to you.
Bridget
Dante keeps making me food in secret and putting smiley-face notes on it.
Jesse’s brought me flowers every night this week.
Adrian has *three* dates planned in the next two weeks, including a “day out”???
And Colt *smiled* at me today…
Emma
um yeaaaaaaaah.
about Adrian…
Bridget
What did he do now?
Em?
EMMA BECKETT GET BACK HERE
“Alright, ladies, let’s kick it up a notch!”
Our instructor calls out the pun in a chirpy cheer.
Her foot slices upward before she pivots and rolls her hips.
Two rows ahead of me, Dante and Jesse try to copy the move, both of them nearly taking out their neighbors in the process.
Behind them, Emma’s alphas—Gunnar, Zane, and Micah—barely manage not to collide with each other.
Emma snorts and I choke on a laugh, unable to fully it lock it down before the instructor calls out, “Now circle those hips!”
Jesse thrusts his forward and back, sort of like a robot doing the Hokey-Pokey. Dante sneers at him. “Like this , cabrón .”
His hips move in such a fluid circle, I don’t know whether I should swoon or cackle. Zane points to him. “You sure you don’t want to be on any of my videos? Throw in an apron and a rolling pin and we’d be set .”
Gunnar smacks his packmate-slash-boyfriend. “Oh, he can be in the videos, but I can’t?”
Zane’s expression is deadpan. “And risk everyone seeing your ass? I don’t think so, babe.” He tosses a wink back toward us. “Our omega agrees, right, gorgeous?”
Emma tries to look stern. And fails miserably. “Pay attention!”
Her alphas do seem to be treating this like a funny diversion while my guys… let’s just say they’re in it to win it .
Dante’s thick brows lower over his dark eyes. He pops his hip and waves his arms while Jesse tries to keep his footing through another turn. Even Colt—who’s standing off to the side, wearing a scowl that could melt glass—is shimmying.
Sure, every twirl ends with him glaring at me.
But he’s twirling .
So I’ll take it.
It’s really not fair, anyway. Emma and I have taken this Zumba class dozens of times. We hop and spin through the steps effortlessly while the boys bumble around.
Until, of course, Gunnar and Dante start getting competitive.
Then, suddenly, it’s Dancing With The Stars .
They throw in hip pops and jazz fingers.
Micah nearly catches an elbow in the face from Jesse dodging Dante’s high kick.
And even Colt has to laugh when Gunnar trips Jesse and Dante on purpose.
They play it off quite well, in my opinion. Jesse starts to topple, but Dante turns it into a spin-and-dip.
So, basically, I can never come back to this class again.
Worth it.
My eyes slide to the hallway outside the exercise room. Knox Beckett and Adrian stand on the other side of the tinted glass, exchanging amused looks and head shakes while their packs make total fools of themselves.
I still can’t believe Adrian planned this .
He even went out of his way to call the Beckett Pack’s alpha for a proper introduction. It’s old-fashioned—the leader of the less-established pack reaching out to the more-established group’s alpha. The custom may be a little archaic, but…
What possible reason could he have for doing this, other than making me happy?
There’s no PR motive to meeting my best friend’s pack. Especially not here, in the neighborhood’s private fitness club. There are no cameras or prying eyes. This is a Sunday afternoon Zumba class full of nanas, not the E! network.
You’d never know that looking at Adrian, though.
With his hair slicked back and a handsome smirk, wearing a cream micro-knit collared shirt that doesn’t have long sleeves but still somehow goes with his black pants?
I’d swear the man just stepped out of a magazine spread on how to make European sophistication work in summer heat.
Adrian feels me watching and inclines his head, turning just long enough to raise a brow at me.
Making sure I’m okay .
When I glance at Knox, I find he’s doing the same thing to my best friend. Some hybrid of checking her out and checking in. Emma blows him a kiss, and the grouchy mountain man flashes a square smile. It’s handsome, but nowhere near as hot as the grin I get when I stick my tongue out at Adrian.
Emma catches my eye on our next twirl, bouncing her blonde brows. I grit my teeth at her. “Shut. Up.”
She shrugs, gesturing to the way my alphas have turned Zumba into a pissing match… to impress me ?
“I didn’t say anything.” Emma giggles, waving her hands to the music. “But if I did , I’d say you certainly look like a real pack to me.”
And—God help me—I’d say she’s right.