Page 30 of Pack’s Pledge

“I’ll–” I attempted, but Conall had already hopped down from the driver’s seat. He strode over to her, pulling her in to him, then–

Oh.

Okay.

He was kissing her–her chin tilted up, his mouth on hers, His hands were confident and firm on her hips, holding her there even as she seemed to melt against him.

“Fuck,” I breathed, “is that what I look like when he kisses me?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting off onthe idea of yourself. Get it together, man,” teased Adrian with a smile, and I scoffed.I wasn’tthatvain.“Also, no,” he continued. “He doesn’t kiss you like…”

“Likethat.”

“No. Damn.” Adrian was staring hungrily at the two of them, his eyes dark, the way he looked at me sometimes.

A knot tightened in my stomach. Was it envy? Conall and Iweren’tlike that. Probably just arousal. Then, he stepped back, taking her by the elbow and leading her across the sidewalk to the car. She looked up at him as he opened the car door for her and this time the knot was definitely envy: I wanted her to smile at me like that, soft and happy.

“Hey, Britt,” I said, leaning over to kiss her blushing cheek after she’d settled in her seat.

“Hi,” she said, and had the temerity to blush, a bright dusting of pink across her cheekbones. She’d dressed up. She knew what this was, and I didn’t need a bond or a scent to tell that she was nervous, excited for the date. My heart swelled in my chest.Sweet girl.

And all ours.

And that’s what made it even better. It wasn’t that I wasan omegathat had Britt leaning toward me, as we sat in the leather booth at our favorite brasserie, eatingsteak fritesand drinking a nice Beaujolais out of bistro glasses. To Britt, I wasn’t a forbidden conquest, or a a checkbox to experience, or a deviant experiment, and this wasn’t a fling. It couldn’t be. I wasBeau.

The waiter came around to inquire about dessert, and she looked up at Conall hopefully.

“Bring the dessert menu,” he said immediately. “And four–four?” He pointed at us all, and I nodded. “Four coffees.” The waiter bustled off in search of menus and mugs.

“Dessert, too,” I said, leaning back in my chair, looking from Britt to Conall.

“Sure,” Conall said, and Adrian smiled at me knowingly.

“Britt deserves the royal treatment.”

“I never get the royal treatment,” I said in mock outrage, and Britt laughed. God, I loved that sound. It was nice to make a woman laugh, and even better that it washer.

“Sure you do,” said Adrian, lifting one eyebrow, biting his lip. My stomach grew warm despite myself. “Any time you want, all you have to do is ask, and I have aking size–oof.”

“Not in front of Britt,” Conall reprimanded, as Adrian nodded, holding up one hand in surrender.

“It’s a little late for that,” he said, smiling even as he rubbed his flank, where Conall had punched him lightly.

Britt, though, was still smiling widely, her eyes sparkling.

“You know, Conall,” she said, holding out a hand to him across the table. He took it, and I watched as his long fingers wrapped around her hand possessively. “It’s still a little…oddto me, to see you with a pack like this, like a real alpha.” In an instant, the thumb that had been moving across her knuckles stilled, the warmth that had permeated his scent gone. “But stranger still,” she continued, wrapping her other hand around his, “is seeing that you turned into such abro.”

His jaw dropped.

“I am not a…bro,” he insisted, but she wasn’t listening, turning to me and Adrian instead.

“You should have know Conall in middle school, he was such a nerd–”

“You think heisn’ta nerdnow?” I said, eyes wide and disbelieving, just as Adrian said, “He wasworse?” and the three of us laughed, loud and raucous even over the din of the dinner rush. Too much wine, maybe, although the single bottle the four of us had split suggested otherwise. No, it was just… It was nice, the four of us seated at a table. Comfortable, despite the hum of unfulfilled potential that underscored every too-long glance she shared with Adrian, the way my thigh pressed tight against hers on the booth, the way Conall’s fingers teased against the skin of her hands.

“Okay, I get it, that’s enough,” Conall said, his cheeks faintly pink. “I’d rather leave the jog down memory lane for when we get home, if it’s all the same to you–”

My eyebrows raised, and he cut off abruptly, realizing what exactly he’d just implied.

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