Page 26 of Pack Me Up

Hunter leans into me, keeping his voice low. “He’s nervous.”

“Like you’re not,” I whisper back.

He shrugs, but he can’t quite shake the tension out of his shoulders.

The only thing left to fix is ourselves.

I duck into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, then comb my hair until it doesn’t look like I styled it with a leaf blower. I change into a black button-down, something neutral, and when I come out, I see Hunter has swapped his T-shirt for a hoodie and actually put on socks. Saint’s already dressed like a bouncer at a five-star hotel, and even though he doesn’t bother with a tie tonight, he’s ironed the shirt so crisp it could cut meat.

Hunter moves forward, arms crossed, hair damp from a quick rinse. He flops onto the couch and props his feet on the table, projecting a confident exterior.

The house is clean, the lights are low, and the air is calm. All that’s left is to wait.

I pour myself a new glass of water, sit at the end of the couch, and watch the window, counting the minutes until she arrives. I don’t know what I’ll say when she gets here, or if I’ll say anything at all.

And if she wants me, even for a minute, it’ll be enough.

Saint chooses to arrange himself with tactical precision by the door, arms crossed, posture perfect. I situate myself at the end of the couch, close to the door, but not directly in the line of sight.

The silence is nuclear until we hear the key turn and Colton and Cody’s voices.

Brittney is in jeans and a navy jacket, hair in a loose braid, backpack slung on one shoulder, and a guitar case in the other hand. Her face is serious, but her eyes dart from me, to Saint, to Hunter, reading every detail. I see the way her nose flares, picking up the scents in the room. I notice the tension in her jaw and the white-knuckled grip on her case.

Saint’s already waiting.

Saint moves forward silently, closing the door behind Brittney and the twins .“Brittney,” he says, formal but not unfriendly. “Can we get you some water or coffee?”

She shakes her head and sits on the edge of the couch near me, backpack on her knees, case tucked at her feet. For a second, none of us moves. Then, as if on cue, Hunter jumps up and flings another blanket over the back of the couch, saying, “You cold? Saint keeps the house too cold.”

“I’m fine,” she murmurs, voice even.

Saint sits across from her, arms on his knees. “You said you wanted to talk.”

She nods. “Can we skip the formal stuff?”

Saint looks at me, then back at her. “You lead.”

I try to push myself further into the middle of the couch, giving her the space she needs at this moment. The twins drop into chairs, spinning to face us. We’re all ears.

Brittney takes a long breath, like she’s diving into a pool, and says, “I’m here because I want this to work. But I need to be clear about some things. There are things you need to know if you’re going to protect me on the tour….and that you deserve to know if you want to be my mates.”

She glances at each of us, looking for the threat, looking for the crack. When her gaze lands on me, I try to smile, but it feels crooked.

Saint waits a beat, then says, “You can tell us anything.”

Brittney’s hand shakes as she fumbles with the strap on her backpack. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. I have… issues. You probably already know that.”

Nobody says anything. Saint’s jaw tics once, then relaxes.

“My parents,” she says, voice flat. “They’re not good people. They tried to… I guess theydidsell me. They wanted me to mate with a pack in Austin, The Loomer Pack, some old-money psychos who thought they could buy an omega for their idiot sons. I ran. Oli helped, and Tommy, but…” She trails off, fingers twisting hard.

Saint’s jaw flexes. “Do they know where you are?”

“My family is looking,” Brittney says. “They’ll recognize me.”

Cody’s eyes narrow. “What about the Loomer Pack?”

Brittney shakes her head. “They’re out for blood. If they find me, it won’t be good.”