Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Mia
Morning comes too soon after a late night staying up talking. For a second, I worry maybe I'm struggling to wake up from another delicious dream, and that yesterday might not have actually happened.
Then I inhale.
Sea salt. Eucalyptus. Sandalwood.
My mates are here in real life. Their existence is no longer a dream that feels just out of reach. Their soft, sleepy breathing fills my living room.
We dragged my mattress into the living room last night. All four of us weren't going to be able to sleep in my bed normally without risking someone falling out and having a serious injury. Considering the two alphas are pro athletes, we sure as hell weren't going to risk that.
And as Freddie quickly reminded us all, he's irreplaceable as Simon the Sloth. Privately, Spencer told me the backup quit because he claimed Freddie was bullying him.
Apparently, that detail has become something no one talks about. Freddie is both an outrageous lunatic and a delicate flower.
Hilarious.
A sleepy smile tugs at my lips.
Spencer and Freddie sleep pressed against either side of me.
Zak, in a moment of noble self-sacrifice last night, folded himself onto my too-small couch so the others could have spots on the bed.
He's such a sweetheart. He gives me serious caretaker vibes.
He's going to be a great father someday, that's for sure.
Even after only one night together, their dynamic feels clear to me.
Spencer is the head of the pack, the most serious and critical-thinking, the one who ultimately has final say.
Keeper of the logistics. Zak is the pack's parent.
Fussing over everyone, putting the others before himself, and making sure everyone's needs are met in the moment.
Protector of feelings. And Freddie is a goofy cheerleader, adding comedic relief while somehow also managing to seemingly see everyone for who they truly are.
He's the one who seems to refill everyone's cup when everything is too serious and heavy. A balancing act.
I can't wait to see where I'll fit in: the fiercely loyal social butterfly with a creative streak.
The idea to make breakfast strikes me. There's not a lot of distance from here to my kitchen, but if I work quietly, maybe the guys will be deep enough asleep not to be woken up right away.
The guys were so great last night about the fact that I hated their house–I'm embarrassed just remembering how awful my reaction was–and even slept here with me despite the sleeping arrangements not exactly being ideal for four people.
I want to do something nice for them, even if it's making pancakes.
Before I can manage to wiggle away from between Spencer and Freddie, Spencer catches me around the waist and presses his face against the back of my neck. His breath tickles my skin, giving me goosebumps all down my arms.
"Where do you think you're going?" he mumbles in a sleepy voice.
Well, when he asks like that... "I'm not going anywhere." I settle against him with a happy sigh. Breakfast isn't going anywhere. Within seconds, I feel myself dozing off, falling back into a comfortable sleep.
I admire Spencer's tight butt in his jeans as he walks ahead of me on the sidewalk. Zak follows my gaze and chuckles, nodding his own appreciation. I'm thrilled that all three guys seem to find each other just as hot as I think they are.
Spencer nearly drooled on himself earlier when Zak walked out of my bathroom with no shirt on. And Freddie grabbed a handful of Zak's ass when he thought no one was looking in the grocery store.
Years together, and they haven't gotten sick of each other. That bodes well for my future, too.
There's a skip in my step as the four of us stroll back toward my apartment building from the grocery down the block.
We all have our arms full of shopping bags–these guys require far more food than I would have guessed, though of course they made sure to give me all the lightest bags while Spencer and Zak took the heaviest.
"You seem happy to be out walking," Zak notes.
Spencer glances back and asks, "Do you enjoy exercise?"
I bark out a laugh so abruptly that a woman walking her dog across the street glares at us for disturbing her peace.
"No," I answer, still laughing. "Not even a little bit." I pause for a second before adding, "Unless sex counts. I like sex."
Freddie trips over his own feet at my proclamation.
Spencer shakes his head, slowing his steps as he shoots me an amused smile. "So, you hate most exercise, but you were fine sprinting across half of a football field yesterday."
"That was an emergency."
Freddie gasps. "Was I the emergency?"
"You were a menace," I correct.
"Are we saying the same thing? I don't hear the difference." He's so solemn that I laugh again, earning a grin from Freddie and Zak, and a full-on smirk from Spencer.
The more time I spend with these guys, the more I feel like my face is in danger of getting stuck in a permanent smile. Things are so great since I managed to get away from their hell-house. That house really is their pack's only true flaw, as far as I can tell.
Some of us have better taste than others.
My comment about sex passes with less acknowledgment than I would expect. These guys have been complete gentlemen all day so far, no matter how many dirty jokes I try to work in.
I'm not sure I like the amount of self-control they're exhibiting so far.
Don’t they know I'm a girl with needs?
We get back to my building faster than I expected. The grocery bags bump my legs as we enter my building and head up the stairs to the second floor. My arm is buried halfway into my purse to dig for my keys when I spot Milo pacing outside of my apartment door like an obnoxious stalker.
He whirls around the second he hears our approaching footsteps.
"There you are!" His shoulders drop with relief that lasts about half a second before he notices I'm not alone. He narrows his eyes at the men flanking me. "Why weren't you answering your phone?"
Oops.
My cheeks warm as I realize I honestly have no idea where my phone is at the moment.
I forgot it existed by the time we got back to my apartment yesterday.
In fact, I might have left it in my sock drawer last night in my desperate search for an outfit to prove to the pack that I do actually own normal clothes.
"I think I left it at home while we went to the store," I fib, doing my best to ignore the judgment on my brother's face.
"Mia."
"I just forgot it on the charger, okay?" I shrug. Totally no biggie. A little accident.
"Mia," my brother says my name again. "You've probably been missing a lot of texts."
My stomach drops. "Oh no."
"Oh yes." His annoyance with me turns quickly to general upset as he rubs a hand over his face.
"There's a video circulating on social media of you chasing Simon the Sloth down the sidelines yesterday, and now everyone you've ever met is tagging you.
Or commenting on your pages, asking if it's really you in the horrible pajama pants.
And probably calling to personally ask you for the story, which you'd know if you actually checked your phone.
What gives? That thing is normally attached to you like a body part. "
I roll my eyes up toward the ceiling. "I’ve been a little busy."
"You should still be answering your phone." Milo wags his finger at me, playing the role of parent more than brother. He needs to relax, but instead his gaze shifts to the guys, and his mouth tightens. "Especially because these men are still strangers. I don't know them. You don't know them."
That earns him three immediate reactions. Freddie huffs dramatically, personally wounded. Zak straightens and steps closer to my side protectively. Spencer puts a possessive hand on the small of my back and glares at my brother.
This time, I roll my eyes twice as hard at Milo. He's getting on my nerves. I know that's a brother's job, but I think he should take a demotion and settle down.
"They may technically be strangers, but they're recognizable ones.
We got stopped three times for pictures while we were grocery shopping.
" The football fans didn't realize that Freddie is Simon the Sloth, but the beta member of their pack seems used to being overlooked in those situations. He was happy to volunteer to take people’s photos.
I think he might have actually snapped a couple of selfies on people's phones, too, before handing the devices back. In order not to be complicit in his shenanigans, I pretended not to notice.
"Besides," I continue, "if I were to go missing anytime soon, I'm pretty sure the police will have some questions for the mascot I was last seen chasing off the field yesterday."
"That is a solid point," Freddie agrees.
Milo scowls, looking like he hates that I'm making sense. See? I'm definitely the smarter twin. Verified.
I sidestep my brother and jerk my chin toward the door.
"Now, can you please step out of the way so we can get these groceries inside before the four different flavors of ice cream we bought melt?
" None of us could come to an agreement on flavor, so we collectively decided the correct answer was to get all four proposed flavors.
An ice cream splurge is my favorite kind of splurge, second to buying shoes.
Milo starts to step aside, then pauses as he takes in the number of bags split between the four of us. His expression turns suspicious again like upon our arrival.
"That's a lot of groceries."
"No kidding," I mutter, fishing my keys out.
His stare bounces from the bags to the guys to me. "Don't you guys have enough money to hire staff to cook for you? My sister is a respected professional. You can't just show up expecting her to suddenly play housewife and cook your meals."
I laugh because he sounds so ridiculous and doesn't even know that the accusation is far from the truth. These guys don't seem the type to ever expect me to cater to them. If anything, they seem keen to be the ones catering to me.
"First of all, you're being rude," I chastise Milo. "Second, most of these groceries are for meals that Zak offered to cook. He's apparently a great cook."
Milo blinks. "He is?"
Zak, the sweet man with a multitude of talents that he is, nods once. "I like cooking."
"And I already confirmed with Spencer and Freddie that his cooking is good, so I don't risk walking into a situation like the one Belle is in." I would pat myself on the shoulder for thinking ahead so well if it wasn't for the bags hanging along each of my arms.
"What does that mean?" Zak tilts his head.
"It means," I say grimly, "I'm not interested in eating pizza made with blue cheese and beef jerky as substitutes for mozzarella and pepperoni."
Spencer recoils in horror. "What the fuck?"
"Exactly." I shudder remembering my last dinner party with my best friend and her pack. Needless to say, I stopped for fast food on the way home.
Freddie shudders so theatrically that he drops one grocery bag and has to squat to retrieve it. "That should be a crime punishable by law."
Milo waves his hands, trying to draw us back to his original point. "If Zak is the one cooking, why are you buying groceries to bring back here? Don't you people have your own home?"
All three of the guys nod... ominously.
I wince because they're so in sync that I worry Milo's next suspicion will be that these guys are trying to convert me to join their cult.
"Surely the kitchen is bigger at your place," Milo says slowly.
Freddie, completely deadpan, says, "Our house is for sale. Kitchen and all."
Milo's eyebrows dart toward his hairline.
Freddie lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "We'll invite you over for dinner as soon as we find a new place, date TBD. Then we won't be strangers anymore."
Spencer shifts the heavy bags higher up his arm so he can put a hand on Freddie's shoulder, warning him not to keep carrying on. Sometimes he needs the reminder that we're not all guest-starring on The Freddie Show.
"Mia wasn't comfortable at our place," Spencer explains, showing my brother much more respect than my brother has offered any of them.
"Mia is reaching out to a realtor so that we can all look at other options together.
We want something that makes her feel comfortable, no matter how long it takes or what we have to spend. "
There's a long pause as Milo stares at us with an unreadable expression.
A very long pause.
Then Milo doubles over laughing.
He folds himself in half in the hallway outside my apartment, clutching his stomach with one arm while bracing himself against the wall by my door with the other.
He laughs so hard that I briefly wonder whether I should go inside to get my phone to call for medical assistance.
Or at least find a paper bag in case his laughter turns into him hyperventilating.
"What's so funny?" I demand.
He wipes at the corners of his eyes and straightens with visible effort, still grinning like an idiot as his laughter subsides to intermittent chuckling.
"I always worried no one would deserve you," he says, looking from me to the pack. "But anyone willing to move houses less than twenty-four hours after meeting you is just the kind of crazy that'll be able to handle my sister."
I gasp, affronted. "Excuse you."
Milo moves completely out of the way of the door and salutes the guys in a way that feels both respectful but also deeply mocking. "Good luck, fellas. You've just found yourselves a real handful. I look forward to hearing the stories that come from your house hunting."
Without waiting for a response, Milo takes off down the stairs, whistling some absurdly jolly tune like he didn't just verbally throw me under the bus by telling them I'm a handful.
Traitor.
I stand there, frozen in semi-offended disbelief, until I realize there are three sets of eyes staring at me. Waiting for an explanation that I can't even begin to give them.
Instead of an explanation, I bat my eyelashes and offer a better suggestion. "Who wants melted ice cream before we eat an actual meal?"
Freddie cheers loudly enough that someone on the third floor bangs on the floor to warn us we're being too loud.
I unlock the door to the apartment to let them in, and Freddie barrels past me to be the first one inside, making a beeline straight for the silverware drawer for spoons. Zak nudges me to go ahead of them, and Spencer enters last, closing the door and locking it behind us.
The guys add noise, movement, and their scents to my apartment, making my place feel more homey than ever.
Milo might think we're all crazy, and he's probably right. I wouldn't want to have it any other way.