Page 58 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

I blink. “Now?”

“Why not? You’re already in post-orgasm recovery mode. We’ll just tell the cashier you’re glowing from cardio.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re hungry,” he says, throwing me a fresh hoodie from a pile behind the door. “I know, because I made you cry on the mat, and I didn’t see you eat today.”

I catch the hoodie midair and mutter, “Oh my god, youarethe hot gym goblin I always feared.”

“You love it,” he calls over his shoulder, already unlocking the front door. “Admit it. I’m your dream Alpha.”

Unfortunately… I think he might actually be right.

Chapter Fifteen

Jace

It’s late, and the taco place is half-empty, which is perfect. Nobody’s paying attention to the sweat-damp alpha and the omega in his hoodie arguing over quesadilla sizes.

“This is too much cheese,” Aimee says, frowning down at her plate.

I blink at her. “There’s no such thing.”

“Jace; it’soozing.”

“Exactly. It’ssupposedto ooze. That’s the mark of quality.”

She gives me a look—the kind that says I’m annoying and she hates me, but also, she’s biting back a smile.

She’s sitting across from me with her dark hair scraped up in a ponytail and her thighs still pink from my hands, and I shouldnotbe as into this as I am.

“Are you always like this?” she asks, blowing on a hot bite and leaning forward. “Like. Always…this?”

“Hot? Charming? Right about cheese?” I say around a mouthful of carnitas. “Yeah. It’sexhausting.”

She groans and throws a tortilla chip at me. I catch it in my mouth, and she laughs; full and real and head-tipped-back ridiculous, and something about the sound settles low in my chest.

I’m not used to omegas laughing like that around me. Usually they’re too busy trying to impress me, or acting like I’m some kind of fun pit stop before they move on to someone better, someone serious.

That’s the thing about being the designated fuckboy alpha. They don’t see it, butIdo. I’m the one they hook up with when they’ve just broken up with their scent match. I’m the one they circle back to when they need a break from their ‘real’ relationship. I’m the last hurrah before they go and get knotted and bonded and build a life with someone safe.

And fine. I like sex, and I like being wanted, and I’ve never once pretended otherwise. But I’ve never knotted anyone, either. It’s a line I don’t cross. I know that once I do, there’s no going back, and I want to save it for the right one. Until then, they can use me however they want, and I’ll enjoy every second of it; but I’m not giving them that part of me. No one’s ever earned it.

At least… notyet.

“So,” I say, tossing a nacho onto my plate and trying to keep it casual, “what’s your deal, anyway?”

Aimee raises an eyebrow, still licking salt from her thumb. “Mydeal?”

“With the app. You trying to collect all three of us like scent-matched Pokémon?”

She snorts, but there’s a flicker of something in her expression—too quick to name. “Maybe I just like variety.”

“Right,” I nod slowly. “Variety. Chaos. Emotionally complicated alphas with mild attachment issues. The dream.”

Her mouth twitches, but her gaze skims away for a beat too long. “It’s not that deep.”

I tip my head. “Isn’t it?”

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