Page 63 of Pack Obsession

“Foster home number three,” I say, surprising myself with the honesty. “Mrs. Rodriguez. She said if I was going to eat like a horse, I needed to learn how to feed myself.”

She takes a bite and closes her eyes in appreciation. “Oh my God, these are amazing.”

“High praise.” I settle onto the stool next to her, our knees brushing. The contact sends electricity through my veins.

She studies me over her coffee cup. “Must have been hard. Foster care.”

“Had its moments.” I steal a bite of her pancakes, grinning at her outraged sound. “Taught me to be self-sufficient. To fight for what I wanted.”

She reaches out, her fingers ghosting over the mark on my eyebrow. I catch her wrist gently, my thumb finding her pulse point. “Casey...”

A blush creeps across her cheeks, and she pulls back. “About last night...”

“You mean when Nash wouldn’t shut up about how perfect you were?” I keep my tone light, but my eyes never leave her face. “Pretty sure Logan’s going to kill him when they get back.”

She groans, dropping her head to the counter. “Oh God, you all know. Everything.”

“Kind of hard to miss.” I push another pancake onto her plate. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s natural.”

“Yeah, but...” She sits up, pushing her hair back from her face. “This morning, I feel almost normal again, like Nash helped me get it out of my system. Do you think that was it? That the heat won’t come back?”

I study her face—the flush still high on her cheeks, the slight dilation of her pupils. She has no idea how beautiful she is like this. “Never heard of a heat lasting just one day. And given how delicious you smell right now...”

“Fantastic.” She stabs a pancake with more force than necessary. “At least there’s comfort food.”

“Always.” I watch her eat, something protective and possessive curling in my chest. “How are you really doing? With everything?”

She pauses, fork halfway to her mouth. “Honestly? I don’t know. Everything’s happening so fast. Weeks ago, I was just... normal. Working my job, avoiding Julian, and trying to keep my head down. Now, I’m in heat, been knotted by Nash, hiding from my psycho ex, and eating breakfast made by a professional thief who looks like he could bench press a car but also makes the fluffiest pancakes I’ve ever had.”

“Criminal entrepreneur,” I correct, winning a small laugh. “And I bench press trucks, thank you very much.”

She looks up at me through her lashes. “I would love to get away from all the chaos… to go back to Hawaii one day.”

I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into the touch.

“I hear Hawaii’s nice this time of year.”

Her eyes smile. “It’s gorgeous every day of the year. Have you ever been?”

“Never had the chance. Hard to relax on a beach when you’re...” I gesture vaguely at myself.

“What, too scary looking?” She steals a piece of my pancake in retaliation. “Please. You’re just a big softie who stress bakes.”

“I do not stress bake.”

“The three batches of pancakes say otherwise.” She grins. “And speaking of which, where are the other two?”

I pause and quickly stuff some pancake into my mouth, then finally say, “Out on errands.” Last thing I want to do is scare her and say they’re visiting Julian. “Anyway, I wouldn’t mind going with you, though. To Hawaii.”

She stills, fork hovering. “You want to go with me?”

“Why not?” I hold her gaze, letting her see the truth of it. “Sand, surf, seeing you in a bikini...”

She throws a piece of pancake at me. “You’re terrible.”

“You would love it.”

The words hang between us, charged with possibility. She bites her lip, and fuck if that doesn’t set me on fire. My cock’s getting harder… impossible not to do when in her presence.

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