Page 40 of Pucking the Enemy

Don’t you guys have classes you need to attend?

Cormac:

We’ve got nothing important going on. We wouldn’t ask you to lunch if we didn’t want to be there.

Phillip:

You are what’s most important now.

My stomach flip-flopped at those words. Lunch wasn’t a terrible idea, but the prospect of having it on the Hawking campus made me uneasy. What if we accidentally ran into Seb? We had hardly interacted over the last few weeks, other than the odd text, and those had seemed somewhat cold.

We would eventually make up; we were both stubborn, and every time we fought, we took a little time to cool off. Then again, our arguments were usually over small, silly things. Not large, surprise-baby sort of things.

I was still feeling like death. Every time I stood up, the room would spin, and I would have to clutch on to something to stay upright.

Roman:

We don’t have to get lunch on campus if that’s what you’re worried about.

I let out a deep sigh of relief.

Hazel:

There’s a really amazing Italian joint not far from campus. I’ve been craving spinach and ricotta tortellini.

That wasn’t a lie. My cravings had been somewhat violent over the last few days. Since some of the cravings had been a bit more interesting—for instance, my bathroom soap was smelling rather delicious lately—the pasta was downright normal in comparison.

Phillip:

Do you want us to pick you up?

Hazel:

I’ve got a friend who works nearby. She’s happy to give me a lift there, but if you guys can bring me back, I’d appreciate it.

Phillip:

Of course, we will. Meet at 1?

Hazel:

Perfect.

I threw my phone on the bed and turned toward my closet. I had an hour until I had to leave, and I had no idea what to wear. What outfit was appropriate to meet your three potential baby daddies, who were also the sworn enemy of your best friend?

It was too warm to wear anything too conservative. Rummaging through the piles of fabric, I finally settled on a light and airy sun dress that fell just past my knees and had sleeves that ended in elastic cuffs at my wrist. It was cute, pink with a distinct floral pattern, and was modest yet pretty. Pairing it with a pair of flats, I gave myself a quick look in the mirror. My hair was its usual wavy mess around my jawline; there was no taming that. The alphas I was meeting with had seen me thoroughly fucked with a lot worse hair, so it wasn’t like I had to impress them.

Even though a small part of me wanted to.

With a sigh, I grabbed my bag and made my way out the door, making sure to bring my purse and my keys. Seb had my spare keys, and I didn’t want to have to ask him to let me back in when I potentially stank like the enemy.

All of the Kingswood pack was waiting for me, sitting around the table with drinks in front of them. The seat next to Roman was vacant, but there was a glass of ice water and a soda on the table.

“Sweetness.” Cormac smiled, standing up and ambling over to me, pulling me in for a hug. I leaned into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent and letting it relax me. “Come sit down, you look tired. We ordered both the water and a soda for you because we didn’t know what you wanted.”

“That’s a lie.” Roman snorted. “Cormac wanted to get you a soda, and Mr. Responsibility over here insisted we also get you an iced water.” He jacked his thumb in Phillip’s direction.

“She’s been dehydrated. She most likely needs water.”

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