Page 28 of Pack Larsen

It’s actually kind of funny, the little loophole they found and the lengths they’ve gone to make sure I receive an apology. I mean, they’ve been sitting here for the past five hours while I worked, neither one complaining, waiting patiently until I finished work before speaking to me. Maybe my standards are low or something, but it’s the most genuine apology I’ve received from anyone.

With that, I opt to give them a chance. It seems only fair, if they were willing to wait five hours to apologize. Plus, I’m really not good at this whole ignoring shit. I wasn’t built for it. If forgiving them means there’s a small bit of peace in the house, then I’ll take it. So, decision made, I roll my eyes at the two of them before shrugging, “Whatever. You’re forgiven. But I swear, if I hear one more snide comment about money—”

“You won’t,” Rage cuts me off sternly, and he finally looks at me with those stormy eyes and a genuine expression that truly allows me to relax.

“Then we’re good,” I deduce, subsequently offering him a smile he doesn’t deserve.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile back, simply nods to himself and finishes his drink before standing. “It’s late and we all have school tomorrow. We should leave.”

He’s right, and I groan when I stand, aching everywhere. I finish my drink quickly, wincing with a brain freeze, and as soon as the glass is empty I ask, “Did you guys drive?”

I eye the two beer bottles before looking them over, and Haze shakes. “Uber.”

“Alright. I guess I’m driving. I didn’t have a drop of alcohol, so you’ll be safe with me,” I snicker, leading them both to the employee parking lot at the back of the club.

I’m groaning again in pain when I sit in the driver’s seat of my car, dropping my head against the headrest for a moment, waiting for the twins to climb in. Based on scent alone, I know Haze takes the front without even looking, Rage sliding over to the middle of the seat in the back. Our gazes connect in the windscreen mirror, and his lips do that little twitch again, like he wants to smile but won’t allow it. Clearly I’m tired, because it makes me smile again, and with a shake of my head, I start the car and pull out.

The ride is quiet for a little while, my head resting against my knuckles when we come to a red light.

“You okay?” Haze asks gently, ocean eyes warming with concern as he eyes me closely.

“Tired, hungry, aching, but I’ll be fine after pizza and rest,” I answer, warming slightly toward him and feeling stupid about it. I mean, where are my standards of decency from a male? Becausedamn, the standard isn’t justlow, it’s buried under the floor if I’m getting all gooey on the inside over a common question.

Smiling over at him in an attempt to alleviate his concern, I pull off as soon as the light turns green, driving us toward a pizza place I know stays open at all hours. The twins don’t say anything about our little detour, filling the car with a mingle of their wild mint and rhubarb scents, and it’s enough to have me close to turning into an exhausted puddle in my seat.

By the time we pull up outside the small pizza place, Antonio’s scrawled over the front of the building with a fancy white script, I have to fight with myself to get out of the car and order the actual pizza.

“What toppings do you want?” Rage asks, already opening the backseat door, ready to slide out.

Tired but grateful that I’m not going to have to leave the car, I slap around for my purse and retrieve my wallet, slinging it to the backseat and hearing Rage catch the small leather item that has seen better days. Offering him eye contact in the rearview mirror, almost pleading that he doesn’t protest me paying for dinner, I answer, “Double pepperoni on a barbeque base, please and thank you. Use my card, and get something for you and Haze, too. We’ll midnight-snack it up before I fall into a food coma and cease to exist for a while.”

Thankfully, Rage does that funny little lip twitch, his stormy-blue eyes almost softening before he nods and exits the car. Haze opens his, ready to follow, before he pauses and asks, “Drinks?”

My eyes shutter closed and I simply nod, offering him a thumbs up and smiling when he chuckles and exits the car. I must doze during the time they’re ordering pizza, because I’m startled awake sometime later when the doors open and two bodies reclaim their seats, bringing their delicious scents, along with the mouthwatering waft of pizza.

Moaning, I rub the heels of my hands into my face and mutter, “Smells so good.”

“Us or the pizza?” Haze teases.

I momentarily forget my filter before embarrassingly blurting, “Both.”

Silence answers me, and I’m confident the scents of the two alphas grow. Either that, or I’m tired enough that I’ve grown delusional. If that’s the case, I really shouldn’t be driving.

Doing my best to shake off the exhaustion, I roll my head side to side and roll down my window until the cool night air washes over my face. Inhaling deeply, already missing the scents that have dimmed, I smack my cheek twice before deeming myself fit for driving.

With no further conversation, the remainder of the car ride goes in peaceful silence. By the time I’m parking in the garage beside the house, I’m ready to expire. I’m already clambering out of the car and zombie walking my tired ass straight to the living room before Rage and Haze can say anything, following behind with the pizza and drinks.

I’m just about to fall into the cushioned couch when there’s a collection of footsteps that seem to hurry toward us.

I’m already rolling my eyes through a painful yawn when Pace, Aero, and Munro appear. Aero flashes me a wide grin, actually looking pleased to see me, right before his gaze wanders over my outfit. Those pale eyes of his darken briefly, and the scent of frosted plums thickens around us, and my lips twitch with a knowing smile I refuse to release. Seems Aero likes what he sees. That prospect has those butterflies fluttering up a storm in my belly once more, but I’m yawning again before I can appreciate it or decide to smother them.

The lecture I’d been anticipating happens the moment my ass meets the surface of the cushion, only it comes from the person I least expected, shocking me more than if a purple elephant appeared in the middle of my living room.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Munro snaps, glaring at me as though he has the right.

I look around, checking it is me he’s aiming that fierce scowl at, finding Rage and Haze far enough away that it can’t be them they’re looking at. Eyebrows pinched and my slow brain working overtime, my answer comes out as more of a question. “Uh, work?”

“And you didn’t think to let anyone know? How fucking irresponsible are you?” he damn near snarls, and I must be deep in a nightmare or something, because there’s no way I’m being lectured about my comings and goings.

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