Page 15 of Pack Larsen

I’m almost distracted again when the front door opens before we reach it, Munro stepping through with a relaxed expression. That is, until those dark eyes land on me. Sure enough, a tightness appears around his eyes and his mouth draws down in a scowl, and my mouth is already moving before he can utter a single word that will either piss me off or upset me. “Fuck off, Munro. Not in the mood for your shit. Go hang out with the other shitheads and bask in your misery there.”

His mouth falls open with surprise, and I can feel Aero laughing silently, his arm shaking against mine as we bypass the beta and step outside.

I don’t stop leading Aero until we reach the garage where my car and bike live, unlinking our hands before I reach my pristine white Tesla. With a raised eyebrow, I ask Aero, “Bike or car?”

“You ride that thing?” he blurts instead of answering.

I nod, eyeing my cherry-black Ducati motorbike with fondness. That bike is one of my treasures, something my two Grandads helped me pick out for my birthday last year. It’s one of my favorite possessions in the world.

Doing my best to shift the weird mood I’ve been plunged into by a simple statement, I tease, “Don’t have to sound so surprised about it, though.”

“Just didn’t expect it, is all,” he defends, eyeing me like I’m a new color he’s never seen before. Like I’m a color he’s enjoying. “It’s cool, though.”

Biting my lip in order to hide the pleased smile that wants to break free, I gesture to my car and then the bike again. “Choice is yours.”

“We’ll go with the car today,” he answers, heading to the passenger side of my Tesla. “We’ll take the bike out another time.”

Snorting, I slide into the driver’s side of the car, buckling in before pulling out of the garage. We’ve only just passed the entrance gate at the end of the short driveway when Aero asks, “So, Alek. What’s he like? He’s the guy with the long, white-blond hair that was at Juno’s party, right?”

“That’s him,” I confirm, relaxing for the first time since entering the kitchen. Not that I was tense before, but I’m really not as good at holding grudges and being petty as I thought I was. It’s exhausting. “He’s basically me in the male form. A taller, buffer, more dramatic form. He’s the best.”

“Sounds like a cool guy,” Aero says, drawing a smile out of me.

“The coolest guy I know,” I agree, tapping the steering wheel with my thumbs as music plays softly from the radio.

Aero grunts, and I peer over at him briefly before focusing back on the road just as he mutters, “Second coolest now.”

“Oh my god,” I laugh, enjoying the way he joins in immediately, filling the car with that addictive sound I want to bottle and keep for rainy days. “How about I let you be the judge?”

“Alright, you’re on,” he agrees, and I’m grinning like a total idiot all the way to Alek’s house.

Chapter 6

Silver

“That guy is the coolest fucking guy in the world,” Aero whispers, his lips tickling my ear as his breath brushes over my neck, a hint of the freshly made cinnamon rolls still lingering on his lips from the orgasmic food Barnes made for us all today.

Grinning in Alek’s direction, I watch as he pulls back another arrow in his fancy new bow, his white-blond hair—matching to mine—tied back in a messy bun with two braids lining either side of his head. The rest is shorn short, only a fuzz of stubble left behind, because his hair is hella thick like mine. Shirtless and wearing only low slung, tan colored sweatpants that look a little worn and haggard, the dude looks like a damned Viking come to life, and I roll my eyes as the big bastard shoots off another arrow at the free-standing target he’s set up in the gym.

“I should have made you put a bet on it,” I snicker, leaning on the wall with my arms crossed, my own hand decked out with shooting gloves made for archery.

Ignoring my statement, he gushes, “Did you see the swords?”

“Hard not to notice it when they take up the entire wall,” I joke, taking my eyes off my cousin to glance at the collection of beautiful weaponry my cousin collects. Some are antique, some new, but all in top notch condition. There are several detailed beauties up there that cost a mint, and some that didn’t cost a kidney, but each one is considered Alek’s pride and joy. Touch one, and he’ll lob your fingers off with a rusty butcher knife.

“Also, what the hell is the bow and arrow thing about? Coolest fucking hobby ever,” Aero continues, the awe bleeding through his words with such clarity that I can’t help but grin a little bigger.

Before I can offer an answer I’m sure will go ignored, because the omega is fully fan-girling over my cousin right now, Alek lowers his bow after shooting the arrow, piercing the bullseye only just within the circle. He holds out the bow toward me and says, “Have a go of that. It feels better than the last one I bought.”

The air shifts with how fast Aero turns his head to look at me, and I’m still grinning as I accept the bow, feeling its weight in my hand and testing the string. “Lighter, too. When did you get this one?”

“Couple of days ago. Laz wouldn’t let me test it out until the new target arrived, which it did this morning,” he answers, crossing his meaty arms over his chest as he stands back with Aero while I retrieve an arrow and lightly nock it in the bow with expert precision.

Taking a deep breath, I draw the arrow back, my hold on the bow relaxed and steady. With my back straight but body otherwise loose and relaxed, I inhale and hold my breath before releasing the arrow. There’s a whizzing sound as the arrow shoots through the air before it hits the target with a thud, the ass-end poking out of the center of the bullseye, proving once more that I am the superior archer to my Viking cousin.

Lowering the bow, I turn my smug grin onto the two men watching, Aero’s face an absolute picture. His mouth is slack with shock, hands on his hips, with his pretty eyes solely on me. It’s a heady feeling, having his attention so thoroughly, and I do my best to hide how much I like it.

My cousin helps with that, the whopping boob scowling playfully at me.

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