Page 32 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

“Look: I mean this is the nicest possible way. You need to get over yourself, man. We discussed this already, and we agreed when we joined that app that we weren’t going to make it weird. And this whole broody, possessive, ‘I saw her first’ thing? It’s not fair. Not to her, and not to us.”

I look him dead in the eye. “I’m telling you: she’s not what she seems. You’re making a mistake.”

Jace shakes his head, something sharp and disappointed flashing across his face.

“But if she wants to play games?” I laugh, mostly to myself. “Thenfine. I can play, too.”

“She’s not playing. Not like you think.”

“You sure?” I sneer. “Or are you just enjoying being the chosen one too much to care?”

He doesn’t bother answering, but sighs as ifI’mthe one being unreasonable. He walks past me and out of the kitchen, our conversation apparently over. Her scent trails behind him;sticky and sweet and utterly maddening, specifically designed to get under my skin.

And he’s right: it’sworking.

I stay where I am, jaw locked, hands flexing uselessly at my sides.

Still, I meant what I said. If Aimee Saunders wants to mess with me, thenfine.

Let her see what happens when I stop playing nice.

Chapter Nine

Jace

Itake the stairs two at a time before I say something I’ll regret.

Wes’s scent—bitter and territorial and steeped in four years of unresolved issues—clings to the air. He's always walked around like he’s carrying a file of grudges under one arm, but tonight it’s worse.

He doesn’tget it.He’s so tangled in whatever past version of Aimee he’s still angry at that he can’t see who’s actually in front of us now.

And yeah, I enjoyed myself tonight. Not just because of the scent match, but because she made me laugh.Reallylaugh. The girl teased me until I choked on a strawberry sample and had to fake a sneeze while two elderly omegas judged me next to the artisanal chutney stand, for gods sake.

She’s weird. She’s smart. She’sfun.

And okay—she looked incredible in that dress, too. Distracting and confident and entirely aware of the chaos she was causing.

But it wasn’t just that.

Two things can be true at once: she’s our scent match, and she’s someone Igenuinelywant to get to know.

Wes might not be able to separate instinct from control, but that’s not me. I’ve spent years learning to hold, to pause, to wait before I act. I’ve broken bones in the gym, had fights in the ring, taken hits I didn’t see coming, and never once lost my temper.

Wes, though?

Yeah. He’s already lost it.

Cam’s door is cracked open, and I knock lightly as I pass. “Hey man. You up?”

There’s a shuffle of blankets and a muffled groan from inside; something that sounds suspiciously likeNapoleonandgranola bars, but then Cam’s face appears, half-buried in a pillow, eyes squinting.

“You’re home.”

His voice is rough with sleep, and I smile. “Yeah. Didn’t flee the country.Yet.”

He shifts over and pats the space next to him. I step inside and sit at the edge of the bed. The scent in here’s different. Cam’s always smelled like comfort, likepeace. Everything’s neat and organized in his room; a single textbook open on the desk and a whiteboard hanging above it with the wordsWhy The Treaty of Versailles Was a Hot Messhalf-erased.

He stretches and yawns. “Tell me everything.”

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