Page 43 of Pack Plus One

“This being...?” Mason prompts gently.

I gesture vaguely between us. “This. One-night stands. Multiple... partners. Any of it.”

“We don’t either,” Caleb says, his voice low and serious. “This isn’t a regular occurrence for us.”

“Right,” I say, not entirely convinced. The way they moved together last night spoke of practiced coordination, even if not with other omegas.

“He’s serious,” Liam adds, leaning forward. “We’ve never brought anyone home like this. Not as a pack.”

This revelation should be reassuring. Instead, it adds another layer of pressure. If this was as unusual for them as it was for me, then it means something. And “meaning something” is far more terrifying than a simple one-night stand.

“I think I should go,” I say abruptly, pushing back from the table. “This is... I need some time to process everything.”

“Of course,” Mason says, though disappointment flickers across his face.

“I understand,” Liam adds, standing to clear my plate.

Jude opens his mouth, probably to protest, but a look from Caleb silences him.

“I’ll drive you,” Caleb says, standing as well.

This time, I don’t argue. I’m too drained, too confused, too overwhelmed by everything to insist on independence.

“Let me get changed first,” I say, gesturing to my borrowed shirt and lack of appropriate bottoms.

“Second door on the left has a bathroom with a shower,” Liam offers. “I’ll find you something to wear home.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m showered, dressed in a borrowed pair of Liam’s sweatpants (rolled at the waist and ankles) and a fresh t-shirt from Mason. Borrowed house slippers adorn my feet and my wrinkled dress and one shoe are tucked into a paper shopping bag Jude produced from somewhere. I’ve never felt less put-together in my life, but at least I’m clean.

The goodbyes are awkward. Jude hugs me too tightly, whispering “Come back soon” into my ear. Liam shakes my hand, then seems to think better of it and pulls me into a brief, warm embrace. Mason simply nods, though his eyes say more than words could.

And then it’s just Caleb and me, walking to his car in the morning sunlight. The silence between us is heavy, charged with all the things neither of us knows how to say.

As I slide into the passenger seat, I can’t help but wonder: How did my life get so complicated in just two days? And more importantly, what am I going to do about it now?

11

LEAH

The car is saturated with their scent. A heady mix of dark chocolate, citrus and woodsy notes, old books and rain, and sandalwood with a surprising crispness. I press my forehead against the cool glass, fighting the wave of warmth that washes over me as their combined aroma fills my lungs, making it hard to breathe, harder still to process the events of last night.

He hasn’t spoken since we left their house.

Neither have I.

The silence is thick with everything we’re not saying.

Last night wasn’t pretend.

And neither is this.

My fingers tighten around my purse.

Caleb shifts gears, his forearm flexing. “I’m sorry about the floor thing.”

I blink. “The floor thing?”

“Sleeping outside your door.” His jaw works. “I was worried you might try to leave in the middle of the night.”