Chapter 16 #2
Beaming at the thought of sharing a waltz with Liam again, I eat dinner, noting how easy it is to talk with this pack. I don’t feel less than or inadequate. They actually seem interested in my research. Dinner is almost peaceful.
“Are you kidding? That’s not fair! He’s cheating!” Wilder tosses his cards onto the table.
Hayes leans forward, a taunting smile on his lips. “It’s Uno Flip, Wild. How can I cheat?”
“You have cards up your sleeves or something,” Wild complains.
“I think we would have noticed,” Sawyer offers.
“Don’t be a sore loser,” Liam adds.
Wilder looks at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t you believe me, sweetness? He’s a liar and a cheat.”
I glance between the pack. The thought of Hayes cheating in Uno is a little absurd. “All I know are the facts. Winning the game requires a combination of probability and strategy.”
“I had a strategy,” he says.
“True, but you kept laying down the same color as what was on this discard pile, but your brother changed colors as often as he could, which was smart because it slowed the rest of us down and increased the chances of him winning.”
“So, you’re saying he’s your favorite?” Wilder asks, narrowing his eyes.
Mine widen. “What, no, not at all. I’m simply expounding on the evidence presently available—”
“Which means you like Hayes more than me.” This time, his lips twitch.
“Oh,” I murmur, shaking my head. “You’re joking.”
He tries to play it tough for a few more seconds, but Hayes pointedly clears his throat. Wilder sighs. “Fine, fine. Hayes won fair and square. Should we play another round?”
“As long as you don’t cry about it when you lose,” his brother teases.
Wilder shoots visual daggers in his direction.
“Do you guys want some popcorn or snacks?” I rise to grab some, but Liam places his hand on my forearm and gets up instead.
“I need you to play referee. These two can get violent if left unattended.”
My mouth falls open, and I look at the twins with renewed curiosity.
Sibling rivalry is fascinating to me, mostly because Henry and I get along so well.
My mother would happily pit us against one another.
Too bad for her that we get along. Speaking of my brother, I should probably visit him soon, but everything has been so crazy with getting settled at my new lab, dealing with my parents, and now everything with this pack.
Henry will want to hear about everything that’s been going on with my life, and I need to decide how much I want to tell him, first.
Wilder finishes shuffling and sets the cards in front of his brother. “Cut them.”
“I’ll cut you,” Hayes fires back.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Hayes growls.
Wilder mocks him.
Sawyer chuckles when I glance at him. “Welcome to Pack Flynn game night.”
“Is it always this intense? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take Uno so seriously.” I’m not even sure if they’re being serious.
“You should see them play Stratego. Sometimes that ends in bloodshed.”
I gasp and glance at the twins. “No bloodshed!” They must be obnoxiously competitive. I bet they were terrors when they were younger.
They both give me sheepish looks.
“Technically, Wilder started it. I’m defending myself,” Hayes grumbles.
“Oh, fuck—”
Sawyer holds up his hand to cut off Wilder. “Behave while Liv is here. We don’t want to scare her off, do we?” They both shake their heads. The pops and the buzzing microwave fill the silence for a few beats, the mouthwatering, buttery scent making its way over to the table.
“So,” I hedge, “Sawyer never told me the full story of how you all met and became a pack.”
“Well, Hayes and I knew Sawyer growing up. Anyway, Sawyer and Liam met at Chicago State. Hayes was at the community college to get his associates, and they all ran into each other at a coffee shop. They were serious about studying because they’re the smart ones,” Wilder says with a self-deprecating laugh.
Hayes bristles. “You’re smart too.”
Wilder ignores him. “So these nerds kept the same study schedules and ended up sharing a table.” He shrugs. “They hit it off, and one day I had to bring Hayes something, and it was pretty much history after that.”
“We all got along great.” Liam picks up the story, setting two bowls of steaming popcorn on the table. “A lot of my friends had gone different directions, and I was sort of alone for a while, but these guys just accepted me into their group.”
“We weren’t technically a group until you were with us,” Sawyer corrects. “The twins and I rode the same bus, but never really hung out until later.”
“You were there for all the important pack-bonding moments,” Hayes adds. “Like that time Wild fell into the duck pond.”
The guys all share a laugh.
“Do I even want to know?” I ask, smiling at the thought of Wilder soaking wet.
“There was a crazy goose.” He shakes his head. “Geese are mean as shit. Stay away.”
“Noted.” I search his face. He’s talked a lot about everyone else, but not a lot about himself. “What about you? When did you start tattooing?"
His features light up. “I did my apprenticeship at a tattoo shop pretty much right out of high school, learned for a few years, and began my humble career as a starving artist.”
“He always used to draw in class. Got in trouble all the time,” Hayes says, smiling at the memory. “Our parents were exasperated when he decided to tattoo, but he was born for it.”
This is the first I’ve heard of their family. “And where do your parents live?”
“They moved to Florida a few years back, fleeing the cold.”
When the twins trade looks, I say, “You miss them.”
They nod. “Yeah, we do, but we can’t begrudge them a warm retirement. Besides, we love heading out to see them in the middle of January, when it’s cold enough to freeze our balls off here,” Wilder explains.
I glance at Sawyer. “And what about your dads?” His mom passed away when I was a teenager.
It had been devastating for me, since Angela Flynn had all but raised me while my mother spent her days with her society friends and organizations, but it had been earth-shattering for Sawyer.
I only met his dads a few times, but they seemed kind and caring.
As far as I know, they’re all close and he has a good relationship with his dads. Wish I could say the same.
“They’re still here, but they quit construction and opened a handyman business. Too many people were getting screwed over by hacks or contractors trying to rip them off.” Sawyer’s voice has roughened.
“Are you going to shuffle all day or deal?” Liam says, taking the conversation to safer territory.
Wilder scowls at him. “Don’t think I forgot about the dance party. If Hayes wins this round, I demand a foxtrot.” He lays out cards in front of each of us.
“What is it with you and the foxtrot?” Sawyer asks, organizing his hand.
Wilder shrugs. “It sounds cool.”
“We’ll give you a foxtrot and a waltz if you win,” I counter.
He smirks. “Your faith in me is ill-placed.”
“Remember,” I tell him, tapping my temple, “probability and strategy.”
Nodding, he finishes dealing. “Prepare to be annihilated."
“Motherfucker.” Wilder glares at Hayes. “This isn’t natural. You can’t be better at everything.”
“I can’t draw for shit,” Hayes counters.
“So I get one thing?” Wilder releases a dramatic sigh and glances toward the ceiling. “God, why do you hate me?”
“Maybe it’s the hairdo,” Liam offers, smirking at Sawyer, who tries not to laugh out loud.
“Hey, I like his hair!”
Wilder winks at me, and Liam holds up his hands in surrender. Sawyer packs the cards away while Hayes revels in being the best card player of the night. A big, gruff alpha loving Uno this much is cute.
“I still want to see a foxtrot,” Wilder says, cueing up some techno.
“This isn’t ballroom dance music,” I say, laughing and shaking my head. “We learned to count our steps, not shake our ass.”
“I could probably teach you a thing or two about ass shaking.”
“I don’t think my hips move that way.”
He smirks. “Oh, trust me, they will.”
Liam clears his throat. “Play ‘Fly Me to the Moon.’” Turning to me, he extends a hand. “May I lead you?”
Heat walks up my neck, but I place my palm against his, grinning up at him. “You may.”
He tugs me up, doing a fancy move that spins me out and then right back into his arms.
“Oh shit,” Wilder says with a laugh.
“Shh,” Liam tosses over his shoulder. “You’re ruining the moment.” His gaze settles back on my face, arms holding me as confidently and surely as they did all those years ago. As the song starts to play, he nods. “Ready?”
I breathe in. “Lead the way.”
The dance comes back easily, my recall still as sharp as it was after a year of lessons.
We’d danced so much, I’m pretty sure the two of us could do this blindfolded.
Frank Sinatra’s smooth voice floats around us as Liam takes me around the kitchen.
The pack watches us dance with rapt attention.
They’re not laughing at us or criticizing our abilities. They’re simply enjoying the show.
When the song changes to another ballroom classic, Liam swiftly switches the steps. There’s a moment of uncertainty, but then I catch it. One, two, three. One, two, three, and I fall into the moment, my cheeks aching from how hard I’m smiling up at Liam.
His eyes are warm, roving over my features before quickly checking to make sure we won’t dance into the counter or fridge.
He was always so attentive on the dance floor.
Knowing he’s still that same gentle-hearted beta warms me from head to toe.
We close out the dance with a silly little spin that sends me into a fit of giggles.
Liam wraps his arms around me and his lips catch mine.
My laughter turns into a soft sigh, and I kiss him back, only breaking away when I hear a throat clearing.
Right. The pack.
We turn to find them staring at us. Wilder and Hayes share a look that says so much without either of them speaking.
“What?” I ask, worried this is the moment they’ll make fun of us.
Wilder stands up, pushing his phone toward his brother. “Play a song. Liam, teach me how to do that.”
Relief washes through me. Wilder takes Liam’s place, a determined furrow to his brow as he listens to Liam’s instructions.
“Remember, she’ll feel as confident as you do, so worst-case scenario, just move around.”
“Just move around.” Wilder scoffs and shakes his head. “I think not, my friend. I’m going to kick some foxtrot ass.”
I bite back a laugh, loosen my muscles, but stay ready to take over in case he falters. Much to my surprise, though, Wilder does pretty good. He’s definitely not as smooth as Liam, but with time and practice, he might figure it out.
“Okay, okay. My turn,” Sawyer says once the song finishes.
He’s not as fast at catching the steps. I take over, counting out loud, smiling up at him when he lets me take control. Some alphas would be mad. Not mine. By the time we finish that song, Hayes is standing, eyeing me with his lips pressed together.
I tip my head and hold out my hand. “Care for a dance?”
“I’m not trotting.”
“Of course not, big guy,” I tell him, lips pulling back as he gently takes my hand. “You’re more of a waltz kind of guy, anyway.”
He doesn’t reply, simply looks to Liam for guidance. The music serenades me almost as sweetly as the pack does tonight.
Pack Johnson could never.