Page 18 of Building My Pack

There are moments in a person's life where they feel something to the depths of their soul, and this happens to me now. I've always felt drawn to the colors of the sunset, so much that the entire theme of my decor is designed around it.

Pressing a small bandage on the one cut on my hand that needs it, he asks. "Are you ready to talk about that list?"

Caught up admiring the way his dark brows sit low as he concentrates on what he's doing, it takes a moment for my brain to comprehend that he's asked me a question. "What list?"

This time when he smiles, it's not the wide one normally directed toward skittish animals. This one is nothing but lips, making his bottom one jut out a little further than the top one. "Remember how I said it would help to make one for all the things you've ever wanted to do and never got to?"

"Is that what caused you to become nomad?"

A sad smile pulls his lips up, and I immediately regret my words when I see it. "My mom was barely into her forties when we lost her. One of the last things she said to me was to live. Do whatever makes me happy, and damn the consequences because we're only alive once."

"Smart lady," I tell him, watching a little light come back into his expression. Not wanting him to be sad anymore, I throw out the first thing that comes to mind. "Pets." His eyes cut back up to me and he's got to be wondering if I've, for real, lost my mind. More likely than not calculating the distance to the door and if he can make it fast enough. The thought makes me chuckle softly. "You asked what I've always wanted to do and never have. I've always wanted a pet."

My distraction works and it earns me a grin this time, so I keep going. "I want to go to a bar and sing karaoke or watch live music. I want to visit Wales and shop in their cute, little villages. I want a big, inground pool in my backyard with a cute, little deck and climbing roses. And you know what else I really want?"

Those eyebrows pull up, telling me to please continue, so I do. "My entire life I've always been thegoodgirl. The perfect one who never steps out of line and always does what is expected. I want to go to a bar for the first time ever and get so drunk that I'll need to call someone for a ride home. Who knows, maybe even puke in the car before I get there."

Barking out a laugh, he says, "I highly recommend cutting the puking out of that one. If you've drunk that much, the misery the next day just won't be worth it."

I roll my eyes playfully. "Okay, fine."

Pulling his bottom lip through his teeth, he shoots me a mischievous smirk. "I think I could help you knock one of those things off your list tonight if you're willing."

I'll be more than willing if you bite that lip again like that.Thankfully, I'm not one of those people who speak before thinking because that might've just been humiliating.Maybe I should've added hot sex with a beta that smells like an ocean breeze to that list.

Instead of shaming or telling myself that I'm not good enough for the sexy beta who's been kind enough to take care of me all afternoon, I surprise us both by accepting his offer. I didn't think it was possible for that smile to grow, but it does as he vows, "Great, I've got to get back to work or I'm going to lose my job, but I'll be back around five to pick you up."

"What should I wear?" I ask, getting up to follow him to the front door.

Casting a glance over his shoulder, his eyes do a once over from my head to toes, and I could swear that I see interest there. Even though, I don't see how, considering I look like I just got into a fight with a trash panda over the last sponge cake at the bottom of a dumpster. As quick as it's there, it's gone again, so maybe I just imagined it, anyway.

"I'd definitely suggest something a little less...‘dirty librarian,’" he says, flashing me a teasing smile before heading outside.

It's a few seconds before I can pick my jaw up off the floor and get my butt into action.

I've never been the girl that hot guys flirted with. Especially during high school and college, not even as an adult. Or, if they did, then I was oblivious to it, choosing to stay focused on my career and future with George. Kit was more than likely just trying to get me to smile more than he was flirting after the turd that has been my day, but I can't help thinking it was a bit of flirting, too. Locking up behind him, I head upstairs to shower for the second time today to wash off not just the dirt, but the icky feeling of the office off my skin.

Chapter 10

Bryce

Hours later, I'm sitting back admiring my handiwork of the basement room. Since lounging around after my shower earlier had given me the harshest of chest-pained anxiety, I'd decided to go shopping instead. I hadn't even bothered changing out of the yoga pants and old t-shirt that I'd thrown on after the shower. Not like I had anyone to impress. The first stop had been the mattress store where the manager had promised to have the two, queen-sized boxed mattresses that I ordered delivered before lunch time. Then I'd run over to the bedding store and picked out sheets and several cute wall tapestries before stuffing the rest of the cart full of pillows. It was during that stop, I rejected a call from my mom, hitting myself with a twinge of guilt. I couldn't remember a time that I’d sent her call to voicemail. However, she also hasn't bothered calling to speak to me in months, and the times we've chatted before in the past two years, I've always been the one to initiate. At some point, especially when your life starts falling apart, you want the people who are supposed to love you the most to reach out and make sure you're okay. I happen to know for a fact that she'd found out about George. He'd told me that he'd talked to them before we even had that wonderful dinner. Did either one of them call or come by for a visit? No. So, now as my life really has hit the bottom, I'm not in the mood to deal with their disappointment. As I'm sure George has already tattled about me losing my job and being outed for lying. I'd even go so far as to say that he probably told them about Santiago and Kennedy, too. Which was, in all likelihood, therealreason for her calling. Not like I found out, since she hadn't left a voicemail when I'd sent her to it.

After stuffing all my purchases in my car wherever they'd fit, I'd driven over to my local grocer and picked up several bottles of white wine and foods to create an extravagant charcuterie board. One of my previous clients had waved to me while we were both shopping, and I'd just about broken down right there in the middle of the store, thinking about how I may not ever sell another house in my life. Everything, all of it gone, in one swift drop of a red paintbrush. In that moment, I spoke to the universe and begged karma to really stick it to Stephanie and George. I hadn't wanted to wish bad things they don't deserve like death or being impaled by flying objects. That bad mojo might come back on me, and I really don't think I could handle it right now. Maybe they could both just share a cactus seat with bare bums.

I'd made it out of the grocer without shedding tears or a breakdown in the cheese aisle. That's a win if I ever saw one. My first one of the day, if I'm not counting Kit. Not wanting to risk running into anyone else, I'd headed back home. While waiting for my mattresses to arrive, I'd gone ahead and set up my charcuterie with the crackers, cheese, meat, veggies, and dip that I'd bought. It was time consuming, but the organization helped distract me from everything else. Thankfully, I'd just gotten done with it and had a few bites when the doorbell had rang.

After signing for the huge boxes sitting on my porch, the man had offered to bring them inside and put them where I wanted them, but I'd quickly turned him down. Just the thought of him carrying them downstairs had my stomach twisting painfully. I'd lied and said I had someone to help with them. Which, if I wanted to be technical about it, I could let them sit where they are until Kit got here. I was sure he wouldn't mind helping, and the thought of him being in my space didn't make my skin crawl.

However, I am an independent, stubborn woman. Did I wait for Kit? Nope. I did however wait for the delivery man to at least make it out of my driveway before dragging both boxes into my foyer. I'd left them sitting in front of the basement door while I went to snack off my board a little more, formulating a plan to get them downstairs. The best thing I could come up with was getting in front of them and guiding them down the steps one at a time. What eventually happened, though, was much more satisfying. When the first box almost pushed me down the stairs, I'd kicked it and let go, watching it slide all the way down to crash against the wall. I'd felt slightly manic for finding it as humorous as I did. Moving the first one out of the way, I'd gone back up and sent the second one down with a small war cry. I'd cackled when that one smacked the wall, too. Not like there's anything it could've damaged.

Feeling super proud of myself, I'd grabbed my board and a water, taking them down to start working on unboxing the mattresses. Everything I'd bought at the bedding store was haphazardly thrown in the corner out of the way as I set to work. Just when I'd thought getting them downstairs was the worst part, they proved me wrong.

My first mistake was unboxing the first one before I had it in the place I wanted. It rolled out like it was on a spring and actually startled the slip of a squeak-scream out of me. Thankfully, I'd already had enough mind to deflate the air mattress and store it back upstairs. I'd needed the space to drag the first mattress over to the middle of the floor which was a pain in the bum. I won't even lie and say that I hadn't taken a break after that one, because I so did. I was out of breath and starting to sweat a little bit. For what it was worth, though, I hadn't wanted to give up and go cry in my bed like I originally would've pictured myself doing earlier. Some might say that I was suppressing those feelings and that it'd come back to bite me, but I figured I’d just have to deal with it then if it happened.

Once the second mattress was dragged into place next to the first one, I'd unboxed it, ready for the spring action that time. Tossing the box over near the other one, I'd set to work cutting the plastic off both of them. I'd spared no change and got the most luxurious ones they'd had, so the five or six inches compressed into vacuum sealed plastic was designed to rise at least triple that size. Both the boxes and the salesman had warned me ahead of time that it could take up to forty-eight hours to expand to its full height. So, there wouldn't be any sleeping down here tonight.

Which, of course, didn't mean that I couldn't take my other purchases out. I'd left the pillows and sheets in the bags but had taken out the wall tapestries and hung them with the sticky glue stuff the lady at the store had recommended for concrete walls. Honestly, she was so quick on her answer when I'd asked that I'd taken a moment to wonder just how many times people ask her about hanging stuff on concrete. Maybe I'm not the only one with a secret room in the basement.

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