Page 5 of Pack Larsen

“Sounds good. Thank you, Silver,” he says, and I dutifully ignore the butterflies that explode in my belly at the softness in which this man says my name. I’m ignoring the full-body shiver and the way my heart sort of hiccups in my chest, too. I’m fully excusing those little anomalies and putting them down to my lack of orgasms I’ve had in the last couple of days. I simply need a date with Merlin the Magical Vibrating Wand and I’ll be as fine as the day is… what day is it?

“Uh-huh, sure,” I mutter, distracted while I go in search of a calendar. Thursday. It’s Thursday. Oh my god, does that mean…?

“You’re a lifesaver, Pixie,” Juno’s voice comes through the speaker, and I frown at the calendar.

“Has the new episode of Brewing Murder been released today?” I blurt, changing the topic to more important things.

“Oh my god, it has, and it was crazy,” Juno brags.

“Don’t tell me anything. It’s my bedtime, true-crime story,” I quickly demand, cutting her off before she can spoil it for me. Again. “Anyway, you’re welcome for doing you this massive favor. I expect to be repaid with one of Leylan’s perfumes. Preferably something sweet. But not like yours, even though it’s sickeningly romantic that he decided to get into his career choice because he missed your scent. That’s some book-or-movie-level shit.”

Juno snorts. “I’ll make sure to pay up. Love you, dork.”

“Love you, nerd,” I quip, smiling at how far we’ve come in the last couple of months.

Ditching my cell on my bed, I take a seat at my keyboard and slide my headphones on, blocking out the world while I focus on my music. I spend the next few hours, long into the early hours of the morning, creating a set list for tomorrow night and wondering how the hell I’m going to live with five guys who don’t even like me.

What the hell have I done?

***

Shades on, homemade cocktail in hand, and my bare legs kicked up on a sun lounger, I slurp on the straw sunken in the vibrant pink-and-yellow-ombre drink I created while I watch pack Larsen move their belongings into my home. It doesn’t go missed that I receive a nasty sneer from Munro every time he passes by, his dark curls glistening in the sun, his intensely dark eyes shooting daggers with every grin I send him. The others have kept their silence, sending me curious or mildly irritated glances as I watch them un-haul Juniper’s truck.

“This was a good idea,” Juno sighs, lying on her stomach, her back bare in the halter dress she’s wearing, black just like her soul, as she claims. Her boot-covered feet are crossed at the ankles, her sunglasses a little wonky from where she rests her face on her crossed arms, but she looks hella relaxed.

As does Geo, the massive beefcake that looks like he could break me in half with one hand. He’s sitting upright, grinning mockingly at Pace as he carries a particularly heavy-looking box, his own cocktail in hand, man enough to rock a sunset beverage without an ounce of embarrassment or shame. “Very good idea, although we could have sat in the sun at home.”

“You’d miss out on the entertainment if you were at home,” I dutifully point out, slurping more of my drink and making eye contact with Aero as he drags a beat-up suitcase by us with an amused grin that sends those butterflies soaring again. Though they have very little, their belongings meagre at best, they have a decent amount of battered furniture and boxes labelled with their names. I wonder where the hell they’ve been storing it all whilst living in the motel?

“Save me some,” the omega teasingly demands, sending me a wink before disappearing into the house and to the bedrooms on the second floor of my humble abode.

Well, actually, there’s nothing really humble about the white-and-grey-stone contemporary house that contains enough windows to be considered a human greenhouse. For someone who likes to lie in the sun like a housecat, the windows are what sold me on the extravagant house I bought last year. A house I bought with my own money, grown from a portfolio of stocks and investments my cousin helped me build, all from the trust fund my grandparents left me when I turned eighteen. It’s the only money I’ve touched, wanting nothing to do with the tainted dollars my parents keep trying to force onto me in exchange for my compliance and obedience.

Fuck that, fuck them, and fuck their money.

“You know, you could help instead of sitting there watching,” a sharp voice snaps, yanking me out of my thoughts of my shitty parents and their delusional ideologies on how an omega daughter should act, dress, and present themselves. Fucking chodes, the lot of them.

Raising an eyebrow at a snappy Munro, I take another sip of my drink before offering my help in the form of some sage wisdom. “Always lift with your legs, never your back.”

“What?” Munro blurts, shaking his head with a cute, little scowl.

“That was me helping. My advice is very helpful. Like, never eat yellow snow. Never piss in the dark. Don’t ever fart in cold weather. If your breath causes condensation when you breathe in cold weather, imagine what that ass will do when you guff. Uh, what else?” I wonder, listing off my wisdom with my fingers as I peer into the sky in thought. “Ah! Always make sure your vibrator is charged in case the power goes out. Um, never trust a fart after ana— Oh, he’s gone.”

The place where Munro had once stood is now vacated, and it takes me a moment to realize Juniper and Geo are sitting upright and watching me with shaking shoulders and amusement plastered all over their faces.

“Which one sent him over the ledge? Was it the vibrator? It was the vibrator, wasn’t it?” I ask, simply for my need for confirmation.

Geo nods with a beaming grin. “It was absolutely the vibrator.”

“Never trust a fart after anal, huh?” Juniper wonders, barely holding on to her laughter.

I shrug. “I don’t actually know about that one. My puckered star is still a virgin. It was just something I figured would make for good advice, even if it wasn’t true.”

And that’s where my best friend and her handsome, beta beau lose their shit, laughing so hard no sound escapes them. With a satisfied smile on my face, I lean back in my chair once more and continue to sip on my cocktail, enjoying the fact that I can make my friend and her pack laugh, at least.

“So, how long are we staying out here watching them move shit?” Geo wonders without judgement, already Team Silver in all things that matter. Even his friendship with Pace tends to go in favor of me, if the way he grins mockingly at Pace every time he passes is anything to go by.

I shrug. “Didn’t really have a timeline in mind. Until they’re finished, maybe? Do you think we should help some more by cheering them on?”

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