Page 25 of Building My Pack

He accepts it within the first ring and his face flashes on the screen. From the angle, only Santiago and his bare chest is visible, making Kennedy start to ask, "Where are you?"

The phone was already being adjusted to include me in the shot over Santiago's shoulder as he's asking. For a second, I panic about the mussed sheets, but we're both naked as a jaybird. It's going to be obvious no matter what. And it turns out to be totally worth it to see the exhausted frown on his face morph into a sweet smile.

"Hi, gorgeous," he says.

"Hi," I tell him with a small wave, making sure to keep my body plastered against Santiago's back.

"I'm glad to see some of us are living the good life right now," he confesses, running a hand down the front of his shirt like it needs straightening.

"How long until you get to come home?" I ask.

Letting loose a deep sigh, he says, "I'd be there in an hour if I could get the plane to fly that fast. As it stands, I'll be leaving tomorrow night and have a couple layovers, so I won't be back until later this week."

"Well, if it'll cheer you up, the two of us will throw you a welcome home party," I tell him, wrapping my arms around Santiago's waist. His free hand rubs my arm absentmindedly.

"If it's the kind of party I'm witnessing right now, I'd gladly accept," he remarks.

After just having what amounts to the best sex of my life and now being on the receiving end of Kennedy's flirting, it makes me feel bolder than what I normally am. "That's a deal," I tell him.

I can see the side of Santiago's mouth pull up in the camera as he angles it slightly back toward him. "You should've just caught the flight with me. Hindsight, though."

"Damn right," Kennedy sighs. "I'd give anything to be there right now, but one of us has to run the business."

They both laugh until Kennedy says he'll let us get back to our own littleparty.I'm pretty sure before they hang up, he mutters something to Santiago about being a lucky bastard. I bury my face into his back and try not to laugh. I fail miserably and he turns around to slowly ease me back down to the bed with his body.

"What do you think?" he asks. "Ready for round three? Maybe we should call him back and let him watch." The last bit is said as breath against my lips, already making my heart feel like it's going to skyrocket out of my chest. But whatever he sees in my expression has him changing course. "Better yet, I think I'll keep you to myself for a little while longer."

Chapter 13

Mitchell

This entire week was the biggest crap show at work, and I just haven't had the patience to deal with any of it. From having workers not show up to jobsites that are already delayed due to weather to the ones who are showing up demanding more pay because it's getting hotter outside. Then today, two alphas got into a fist fight that sent both of them to the hospital since they just so happened to be on a roof when it happened. The paperwork alone for that one is going to be a nightmare. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that they're okay with no broken bones or anything more serious, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to give them another beating. I'm just glad I wasn't at the site today, because sometimes, my anger gets the best of me. As my roommate and best friend likes to remind me practically on the daily.

"What's really got you in the tits this week?" said friend asks from his cross-legged position on the couch, stuffing a box full of takeout noodles in his mouth.

Ever since meeting Kit's little omega, Bryce, I've been having trouble sitting still, let alone trying to keep a lid on my anger issues. Waylen knows this. It's why he snickers around his noodles as I bounce to my feet and move to the bar to make myself a drink. Of course, as soon as I start pouring it, I stop. It's not what I want. Picking up the small basketball sitting on the counter, I shoot it at the hoop in the corner. I'm in the middle of retrieving it to shoot again as Kit comes strolling down the stairs. Way and I set this place up down here before any other room in the house right after we bought it. We've got three massive flatscreens on the wall for game days when there's more than one game on. The two leather sectionals are pushed against each other making a huge U in front of them. Then we've got the bar, the pool table, and other arcade-type games in the corner. Naturally, as soon as we got to know Kit and he joined the band, we told him he was welcome anytime. I've told Way that I think the dude lives out of his truck, but we didn't want to offend and offer a place to stay if that's a preferred choice. We've only known him a couple months, but sometimes, you just meet people and click. He is one of them, and so is Bryce.

"What's up guys?" he says, taking a seat a few down from where Waylen's still stuffing his face. "What's for dinner?"

"Mongolian," Waylen replies between bites. "You can have Mitch's if you want. Not like he's going to eat it."

Exasperated, I don't bother choking down the small growl that slips out.

Kit holds his hands up toward me. "I'm good, man. Ate before I got here. Your food is safe."

Way chuckles and murmurs under his breath, "He's not pissy about the food."

"You heard from Bryce this week?" I ask, taking another shot.

Coughing to hide his snicker, Way glances knowingly at Kit. To whom he answers, "Not since the other day. Told you I stopped by the morning after and brought her breakfast, but I haven't seen her since. When I drove by the other night after work, there was another car in her driveway, so I didn't stop. The last thing I want is for her to think I'm some kind of stalker or something. You could always text or call her, though. I didn't give her your numbers. Just got permission to give you hers."

"I've been telling him that for days," Waylen states, this time with a mouthful of food, and I don't hold back throwing the ball at him. It bounces off his arm that he throws up in defense and lands somewhere behind the sofa as he laughs.

Plopping back down in my former seat, I muse over his words and fight the urge to reach for my phone. He's right. We barely know this chick, and she's got my head all messed up.

"Will it make you feel better if I stop by and check on her?" he offers.

Surprisingly enough, I don't even have to answer. Way beats me to it. "Yeah, I think that'd be a good idea. She wasn't in a good way the other night."

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