Page 39 of Pack Me Up

On our way to checkout, we pass a lighting display. There are strings of tiny bulbs, moon lamps, and projected galaxies that rotate across the ceiling. I stop, unable to move on. The ambient glow, cool and a little otherworldly, is the closest I’ve ever felt to safe at night.

Saint stands behind me, reading my mind. “Pick whichever one you want. They’re all beautiful.”

I reach for a moon lamp, then double back and grab the starscape projector. Saint nods, approving, and for a minute, I feel his hand warm on my shoulder, anchoring me to the floor.

The cart is stacked higher than my head when we finally hit the registers. I look at the pile of blankets, base pads, and enough pillows to smother a small army, and panic. “This is too much,” I say, half to the pack, half to myself.

But Fox shakes his head. “It’s not enough. You’re owed so much more.”

Cody and Colton get to work unloading the cart, their arms bumping as they scan each item for a barcode. Hunter prowls the perimeter, but glances over often, as if checking to make sure I haven’t disappeared.

Saint pays and doesn’t blink at the number. I feel the urge to apologize, but the look on his face is satisfied, calm, and likehe’s finally done something right. That look kills the words in my throat.

I glance over and catch a girl, maybe sixteen, lurking at the endcap with her phone in a death grip. She’s tiny, with dyed hair fading to pink at the tips, and the moment we lock eyes, she freezes.

The air changes. Instantly.

Hunter slides in front of me so smoothly I almost don’t notice, planting himself between me and the girl. Colton moves to my right, all joking gone from his face. Saint’s silhouette sharpens, shoulders squared, every muscle dialed to alert. Fox is a step behind, blue eyes suddenly cold as he sweeps the aisle. Cody blocks the far end, chin tipped up, like he’s expecting a fight.

The girl’s eyes dart from face to face, then she turns to flee, but I don’t want to scare my fans away, if that’s what she is.

“Wait, don’t go. Did you need something?” I ask.

She smiles hesitantly. “Um. Are you…Brittney? Brittney Ryan?”

I nod. “Yes, that’s me.”

The girl bites her lip, her voice a whisper. “I just- I love your music. I saw you and Tommy online, and I’ve had ‘Five Alarm’ on loop for, like, months. Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” She tucks her head down, mortified.

I place a hand on Hunter’s arm. He glances back, reads my face, and eases off, but stays close, in case.

“It’s okay,” I say, offering a smile. “Thanks for saying hi.”

The girl’s shoulders drop a fraction, relief obvious in every line. “Could you…um, I mean, would it be weird to take a photo?”

I laugh, softer than I expect. “Not weird at all.”

I remember how sweet Oli was when I met her, and I want to be that kind of star, too.

She edges forward, careful to keep distance between her and the wall of Phoenix Pack alphas. I snap a selfie with her. She shakes so hard she nearly drops the phone, but I steady her with a gentle hand. After, she asks for an autograph and I scrawl it on the back of her phone case, right over a brand new Tommy sticker.

She’s about to bolt when she turns, eyes wide and vulnerable. “You’re really brave. I wish I could do what you do.”

The words hit harder than they should. “You could,” I say. “Start small. Make something just for you.”

She beams, and then she’s gone, sneakers squeaking on the floor.

When the aisle is empty, the pack relaxes. Saint’s posture softens, Fox lets out a breath, and Colton flashes his teeth at me, more grin than snarl.

“I didn’t expect to be recognized in public,” I admit.

“Of course you will be. You’re going on tour with The Hart’s Edge soon,” Hunter says, knocking my shoulder.

Saint approaches, expression unreadable, but I can feel his pride in the warmth of his gaze. “You did well.”

I nod, heart still hammering, but it feels less like fear now, more like… a high.

The parking lot is warm, sun painting everything gold. We load up the SUV, every move practiced, everyone’s hands knowing where to go.