Chapter 28
GRACE
Boston’s summer is a humid hand pressing down on your face.
I was supposed to be back on the ice two days ago, but post-heat fatigue doesn’t care about your contracts or your dreams. I got a doctor’s note, turned in my absence form, and then slept for twenty-seven straight hours after returning to my apartment.
Now my body is eager to move. Albeit, move toward my alphas, but still. The last time I saw them, I was delirious and cradled in their arms, all of us slick with sweat and pheromones.
Soon. But first, I need to repack my skate bag for my return tomorrow. Charlotte’s been over for an hour now hanging out and helping me.
“I heard you were amazing,” I say.
Charlotte grins and lifts her chin. “It was a hell of a good time, but I’m happy to relinquish the Princess role back to you.”
I shrug. “You could keep it for the rest of the run if you wanted. Enjoy the spotlight.”
She takes her head. “No, thank you. That big jump in Act 3 is terrifying.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Plus it feels weird falling into your alpha’s arms.”
I playfully smack her arm. “You’re not going to stop bugging me about this are you?”
Charlotte rests a hand on her chest. “That you spent a surprise heat with them after barely talking to Connor on Day 1? Absolutely not.” But then her smile warms. “I’m happy you sorted it out though. It was obvious something was still there between you all despite everything.”
I nod. Sometimes I can’t believe it either. And while I’m not foolish enough to think there’s not still work to do, I’m happy to meet it head-on.
Something bangs in the hallway, and I jolt. Charlotte looks at the door. “Are you expecting someone?”
I shake my head, pulse doubling. But there’s no reason for that. It could literally be anyone coming home right now.
There’s another thump, louder this time, then a volley of slurred laughter. Their scents hit before their voices do: beer and a sour-candy tang. Three of them. Tanner, Evan, and Chris.
Charlton Pack is back.
“Don’t answer it,” I whisper. Not that Charlotte was moving toward the door in the first place. If I can scent them, Charlotte sure as hell can.
Charlotte’s face tightens. They approach my door and knock hard and insistent.
Fuckers. How do they even know which apartment is mine?
“Grace!” Tanner’s voice is so annoyingly nasal. “We know Charlotte’s in there. Let us in. We wanna talk.”
Charlotte’s hands start to shake. I grab them and level my gaze with hers. “We’re not letting them in. It’s okay.”
As far as I know, she never got the restraining order. Not yet. It’s probably about the only reason they’re here right now.
But it’s too late. Another knock, and then the knob rattles, and I realize my own idiocy: I never locked it.
“Grace, come on!” Evan shouts. “We know you’re home. Charlotte’s with you, right?”
Charlotte’s grip tightens, her eyes huge. “We can pretend we’re not here.”
The door bursts open anyway. Charlton Pack saunters in like it’s their own apartment.
I put Charlotte at my back and walk backward toward the kitchen. “This is not your place. Get the fuck out.”
Tanner leads, his hair gelled within an inch of its life. Behind him, Christopher and Evan, both in cargo shorts and backwards caps, try to look casual, but their nostrils are flared, scenting the air like sharks.
“Whoa, what’s up, girls?” Tanner sprawls into the entryway, eyebrows bouncing as he scans the room. “Nice setup, Grace. Didn’t know you were so domestic.”
Christopher grins, revealing a chipped incisor I hadn’t noticed during our past two encounters. “We brought snacks.” He drops a pack of beer on to my coffee table.
“Get out,” I repeat. Grace shifts behind me, hopefully calling 9-1-1.
Evan gives a wounded look. “That’s rude. We just came by to say hi.” But he’s already locking onto Charlotte, his expression shifting from mock offense to hungry calculation. “Hey, Charlotte.”
Charlotte, to her credit, stands her ground with her head held high. “Great, you’ve said hi. You can leave now.”
Tanner ignores this and cracks a can of beer. “We heard you killed it the last few nights, Charlotte. You’ve got everyone buzzing. But maybe you should ditch the ice princess gig and come join us at the party tomorrow?”
“She doesn’t want to,” I snap.
Christopher closes the distance between us and leans against my kitchen counter. “Who says she doesn’t? Maybe she’s bored of skating circles around you, Grace.”
Something is happening between the three of them—some weird, off-kilter energy I can’t read, but it’s obvious they’re not planning to leave this time until they’ve gotten what they came for. Charlotte’s hand trembles harder.
Charlotte gives me a look—a split second of panic, then resolve. “I’m not interested in parties, Chris.”
“But we are interested in you,” Evan says, grinning.
All their gazes lock on Grace.
Hell the fuck no.
“This is your last chance, get the hell out of here,” I warn as I shift my stance. My frame might be better built for doing jumps on ice, but there’s one other thing I trained on as my father’s only daughter.
Christopher pouts. “Why, what are you going to—”
I reel back and punch him square in the nose. He cries out and stumbles backwards, absolutely more from shock than force. Charlotte yelps. Pain erupts through my fist, but I pull back, ready to swing again.
“I said get the fuck away from my friend!”
Tanner laughs drunkenly. “Whoa, whoa. Uncalled for. Think yourself an alpha now do you?”
The door swings open again. Three more men stand at my doorframe. But these are ones I’m happy to see.
“No,” Zev says as he cracks his knuckles. “But if you don’t leave these ladies alone, you’re going to get even worse than she gave.”
I smile. Of course they’d save not just me, but Charlotte, too.