Chapter 23 Days Off And Confessions #2
His eyes have gone dark, pupils dilated, and his scent—honey and butter and want—fills the small space.
"Levi—"
"We're getting it."
"You can't just—"
"Watch me."
He buys the dress. And the green sweater. And a pair of earrings I looked at for three seconds. The sales associate practically floats with her commission high, and I'm torn between mortification and something warm that feels dangerously like being cherished.
"This is too much," I protest as we leave, bags in hand.
"Nothing's too much for you."
"That's patently untrue. Many things are too much. Like your spending habits."
"Like your refusal to accept nice things."
"I accept nice things!"
"Name one."
"I accepted you."
The words are out before I can stop them, hanging between us in the October afternoon.
Levi stops walking, turns to face me fully. "Yeah?"
"Well. All of you. The pack. You know."
"I know," he says softly, then grins. "Want to get ice cream before we head back?"
"It's October!"
"Ice cream knows no season."
"That's insane."
"That's dedication."
We get ice cream from a place that has forty-seven flavors and an owner who judges your choices. I get maple walnut because I'm practical. Levi gets something called "Unicorn Explosion," that's seven colors and probably illegal in several states.
"How can you eat that?" I ask, watching him attack the rainbow monstrosity.
"With enthusiasm and zero shame."
"It's going to turn your tongue blue."
"Perfect. Matches my personality."
"Your personality is not blue."
"What color is my personality?"
"Golden retriever."
"That's not a color."
"It is for you."
We eat our ice cream on a bench, October sun warm despite the breeze, and I realize this is what a day off feels like. No rush, no orders, no performing. Just existing with someone who makes me laugh and buys me dresses I don't need and eats ice cream that looks like a Lisa Frank folder exploded.
"Thank you," I say suddenly.
"For what?"
"For this. For listening this morning. For not letting me spiral about the past, and for the dress I'm definitely returning."
"You're not returning it."
"I might."
"You won't."
"We'll see."
"I already hid the receipt."
"Levi!"
He grins, unrepentant, and there's ice cream on his nose because of course there is.
"You have—" I gesture at his face.
"Where?"
"Just—here."
I reach up, wipe the ice cream away with my thumb, and his hand catches mine before I can pull back.
"Hazel."
"Yeah?"
"I meant what I said this morning. About never having to go through that again."
"I know."
"Do you?"
I think about three years of cooking for nothing, of being told I was never enough, of shrinking myself down until I almost disappeared.
Then I think about these last weeks—Rowan buying me furniture, Luca fixing everything quietly, Levi trying to make me breakfast, and almost burning down my kitchen with love.
"I'm starting to," I admit.
"Good enough for now."
The ride back is less terrifying, probably because I'm sugar-high and distracted by the way Levi keeps reaching back to squeeze my hand at red lights. The death trap motorcycle now feels almost charming, in a "might kill us but at least we'll die happy" way.
When we get back to my apartment, Rowan's truck is already there.
"How was training?" I ask as we climb the stairs, Levi carrying all the bags because apparently that's a rule.
"Boring," Rowan calls from inside. "How was your day off?"
"Levi bought me too many things and fed me radioactive ice cream."
"Sounds about right."
I open the door to find Rowan and Luca on the new couch, watching something on Luca's laptop that they immediately close when we enter.
"What was that?" I ask suspiciously.
"Nothing," they say in unison.
"Very convincing."
"We're naturally convincing people," Luca says.
"You're naturally suspicious people."
"That too."
Ember and the cats have formed some kind of peace treaty that involves everyone ignoring everyone else while secretly wanting to play. Muffin supervises from her perch, judging everyone equally.
"Show us what Levi bought you," Rowan says, and there's something in his tone that suggests he already knows.
"He called you, didn't he?"
"Texted. With photos."
"Of course he did."
"The dress is perfect," Luca adds. "You should wear it to the Halloween thing."
"What Halloween thing?"
They all exchange looks.
"The Halloween thing we're definitely not planning," Rowan says.
"The surprise thing that's not happening," Levi adds.
"The thing you shouldn't worry about," Luca finishes.
"I'm going to worry about it now."
"Please don't."
"Too late. Worrying initiated."
But I'm smiling, surrounded by Alphas who can't keep secrets and pets who are pretending not to like each other and shopping bags I don't need but love anyway.
This is what a day off feels like. This is what being cherished feels like. This is what pack feels like.
"Next time," I say, settling between them on the couch, "I'm picking the transportation."
"Deal," Levi says.
"And the ice cream flavors."
"Never."
"And I'm paying."
"Absolutely not," all three say in unison.
I should argue, but Rowan's arm is around my shoulders, Luca's hand is on my knee, and Levi's already planning our next adventure on his phone.
Maybe being taken care of isn't so bad after all.