Page 28 of For All My Effort

“I like any color you do. I think my favorite was when you did the half and half green and black.”

“Very femme fatale,” Zeke agreed. His arousal just barely caught my attention.

I blushed even as I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, just that I wanted a change.

“Whatever it is, you’ll look perfect, rebel.”

My thanks was forgotten when I heard the door open. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I ran, determined to learn why my mate had left so early in the morning without a goodbye. With a drink in each hand, he used his foot to shut the door behind him.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling widely. His positive demeanor was so distracting that I forgot to respond as he came up and kissed both of my cheeks before handing me a drink. Like the one from the hospital, it was in a clear plastic cup.

Mine was a dark purple color, similar to the last one I’d had.

“Thank you.” I took a sip, the sweet taste I was expecting turning out to be bitter. My nose wrinkled in disgust before I thought better of it and tried to school my features. It sort of tasted like the last one I had, only they must have screwed it up when making it.

“Here, try mine.” Before I could argue, Han switched our drinks. His was a soft white color, and when I tried it, I could actually taste the authentic vanilla beans blended in it. “Keep it. I don’t mind this one.”

It was probably bad, but I didn’t argue. This smoothie was so much better and if he was offering to switch drinks, I wasn’t going to stop him.

In the next few minutes, the rest of my alphas left, and Han went up to the second floor to work.

For the first hour, I enjoyed my drink, even reheating some breakfast to eat. Then I tried walking around, exploring the house on my own, ignoring the very specific instructions not to use the stairs. When I was bored of that, I went back to the living room space, wondering if I should just sit and watch some TV. My attention caught on the bag of yarn and hooks on the small table.

Pulling everything out, I noticed only a single bit had been attempted, although it appeared to be already coming apart. Deciding to start from scratch, I undid the loops and knots and whatnot and grabbed the folded instructions.

Seemed easy enough. Knot the yarn on the hook then do some loopy-loops and bam—a stuffed dog.

The first knot, getting the yarn to stay on the hook was misleadingly easy. When I tried to actually make the yarn exist in any way that was more complicated than unrolling it, I failed. I kept grabbing more and more length, unspooling the ball in an attempt to make this project work. It was impossible.

At some point, I had to stop and rewind all the yarn back around itself. Then, I tried again.

I was concentrating so hard my head was beginning to thump, especially the back part where the stitches were aching, making it difficult to think properly. Still, I tried to power through, taking a deep breath, rolling my shoulders so I wasn’t hunched over the little table, and started again.

“It’s fucking impossible.” Throwing the goddamned yarn and hook on the table, I didn’t even bother putting it away. The instructions sucked. They didn’t even fucking make sense.

“You good, Hannah?”

Han’s voice appeared from the stairs, my alpha standing on the bottom step, leaning against the wall as he smirked at me.

“This is impossible.” I pointed to the broken yarn and unusable hook. “There’s no way this was something I’ve ever done.”

“Actually, the last time you tried, I came downstairs just in time to stop you from tossing it into the fireplace. You said something about wanting to hear it scream in the fire of everlasting pain.”

I shrugged. Past me definitely had the right idea.

“I’m taking lunch, want to join me?”

To be honest, I wasn’t really hungry, but I went into the kitchen anyways, not bothering to put away my unfinished project. Han made his food with ease, letting me help grab him what he needed. It was a quick pasta with some heated-up seafood and a delicious sauce that apparently he makes at the beginning of each month and stores for pack use.

Rather than walk all the way to the dining room, Han just ate over the large kitchen island. I made myself comfortable on top of the counter. Each time he offered a bite, I took it without hesitation, moaning at how good it was.

“So.” Han scraped the last bit of sauce off his plate before continuing. “What’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“Obviously, that—”, he gestured to the living room, “—wasn’t going well. And you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

I groaned, unable to help it. “I’m so bored.”

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