Page 163 of Ashley & the A-Listers

“Did you wear them out?” Dylan teased, and Cam’s cheeks heated.

Ashley’s shoulder beneath his mouth. River’s hand in his hair.

“I think so,” Cameron guessed, thankful that a burst of arousal didn’t send him to his knees.

Dylan slid a plate across the bar, stacked high with several pieces of crispy bacon and sausage and pancakes and a fluffy biscuit, steam still rising from the buttery crust.

“Christ, this looks amazing,” Cameron said, and promptly dove in with no hesitation. He practically moaned at the first bite, his sole focus the food in front of him.

Dylan munched on a piece of bacon, hip against the counter as he finished up whatever he was doing.

Clarity came to Cameron about halfway through his plate. “You’re not jealous?” he asked, pancake shoved in his cheek to talk. His scent was smooth, damp grass after a storm. Cam found some comfort in it, some calm after his own storm had passed.

Dylan glanced over at him as he flipped a piece of sausage in the pan. “Jealous of who?”

“I don’t know. Me? You and Ashley are bonded. I kind of stole her for a few days.”

Dylan shrugged. “You wanna know what I think?”

Cam swallowed and nodded.

“I think…” Dylan pushed a glass of water to him, and Cam didn’t even realize how parched he was until it was within reach. “...She wants to keep you.”

Cam stared at Dylan over the lip of his glass, processing.

“She wants to keep me?”

Bite me, alpha, please.

“She didn’t want to bite me,” Cam admitted, dejected.

Dylan arched a brow. “That doesn’t surprise me. Omegas are always a little… out of it during a heat. She probably didn’t want to take the chance that you’d regret it later.”

And even though Cam knew that to be true, he couldn’t shake the embarrassment, the shame that came from Ashley denying him during the heat.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, staring down at his plate.

“I do,” Dylan said, so sure of it, as if he was daring Cameron to believe it, too. “Ashley wants a pack.”

Cam’s fork clattered to the plate and he clumsily chased it, wincing at the sound. “She does?”

Dylan nodded, then frowned, staring somewhere off in the distance. “She does. Don’t know why she started with me,” he said, hand grazing the mark hidden beneath his shirt.

“Cause you’re the one that got away, idiot,” Cam mumbled. “She loves you.”

Dylan’s cheekspinkened,and Cameron filed the moment away to shout victory over later. Cam’s gaze lingered as if he could see through the fabric to the bite on Dylan’s shoulder. He wanted a mark, too.

“Do you want a pack?” he asked.

“I want whatever she wants,” Dylan answered. “Her happiness is… everything. And if that includes a pack, I want that, too.”

“You sound very sure.”

Dylan shrugged. “I’ve had a few days to think about it.”

He did seem oddly at peace about it all. Then again, hehadbeen locked out of the nest for…

“What day is it?”

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