Page 7 of Pack Plus One (Sweetwater City Reverse Harem Omegaverse #1)

The rich aroma of coffee hits me, and I realize I’ve been yawning. “God, yes,” I say gratefully, accepting the cup as Caleb helpfully takes the champagne from my fingers. Again, at that brief touch, electricity races up my arm and down my throat straight into my gut.

I gulp, gaze shifting to Mason. Unlike the others, Mason seems content to observe rather than possess, and there’s something incredibly appealing about his quiet attention.

“Perfect timing,” I tell him after taking a sip. “How did you know?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “You’ve been suppressing yawns for the past fifteen minutes. And you keep checking the time.”

I feel my cheeks warm. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those paying attention,” he says simply.

And something tells me he's exactly the type of guy that pays attention. The quiet observer.

The coffee is exactly what I need—strong and sweet with a hint of something that makes me pause mid-sip. There's a familiar warmth beneath the richness, something that instantly soothes my frayed nerves. “Did you add cinnamon to this?”

He nods, his expression unchanged but something like quiet interest flickering in his eyes. “The bartender said they had it.”

“It’s...my favorite,” I say, genuinely surprised. I’ve never mentioned this preference to any of them—how could I have? We just met. Yet somehow, this quiet beta had instinctively known. “How did you...?”

He shrugs slightly, as if it were nothing special. “You seem like someone who appreciates the unexpected in familiar things.”

The simple observation—so accurate it’s almost unsettling—leaves me momentarily speechless.

Jude joins us a moment later, completing our little group on the balcony. “There you all are,” he says, a hint of petulance in his voice. “The networking is happening inside, you know.”

“We’re taking a break,” Liam says mildly.

Jude squeezes in to lean against the balustrade next to me, close enough that our shoulders touch. “Are we boring you already, doll?”

“No, not at all,” I smile, raising my coffee cup. “Just recharging.”

He grins back, the slight edge in his voice softening. “Good. Because you still owe me that dance.”

The reminder makes my pulse quicken. I glance at my watch, relieved to see it’s nearly nine. “Actually, I should probably head out soon. It’s getting late.”

“Leaving so soon?” Jude asks, his tone laced with surprise. “But we’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding, of course.”

I freeze, my escape plan crumbling. “T-Tomorrow?” I stammer. “Oh, um... about that...”

Just then, I spot Eric approaching from the still-open doors.

What the fuck? Had he been keeping tabs on where we went?

Damn. Fuck. Shit! His timing is as terrible as ever.

And it’s clear he’s caught the tail end of our conversation.

He’s got that look on his face—the one that always preceded his most condescending comments during our relationship.

“Leaving already, Leah?” he asks, a smug smile playing at his lips. “Surely, we’ll see you at the main event tomorrow?”

My mind races. I can’t admit I wasn’t planning on attending the wedding, not with Eric gloating right here .

The whole point of this charade was to show him I wasn’t still hung up on our breakup.

That I’d moved on. Admitting I was planning to skip his wedding would just confirm what he already thinks—that I care too much.

Fuuuuuuck!

“Of course we’ll be there,” I blurt out, shooting a panicked look at the Le Roux pack. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Eric’s smile falters slightly, and I feel a petty thrill of satisfaction. He wanted me to squirm, to admit defeat. Not today, Eric.

“Wonderful,” he says, recovering quickly. “The ceremony starts at two. Do try to be on time.”

As he walks away, the full weight of what I’ve just done hits me. I’ve committed to attending a wedding. With four men I just met. Men who think I’m someone else. Someone they hired to pretend to be their pack omega for the weekend.

I’m so screwed.

Caleb steps closer, his phone in hand. “Now that that’s out of the way…” From the way he’s sneering at Eric as he retreats tells me I could fall in love with this man.

No. No, Leah. Stab that thought and bury it right here, right now.

“I’ve been trying to text you,” Caleb says, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “They haven’t been going through.”

For a moment, I’m confused. Then I realize—he’s been trying to text their hired date, not me. This is my chance to come clean, to explain the whole misunderstanding.

Instead, I catch Eric’s gaze from where he’s stopped inside the building, talking to a group of his guests, but his eyes are on me. My traitorous tongue—fueled by pure reflex—seizes the opportunity to dig myself even deeper.

“Oh, I had to change my phone,” I improvise, hoping they’ll buy it. “Here, let me give you my... new... number.”

Like a fool, I recite my actual number, my heart pounding as I realize I’ve just agreed to see these incredibly attractive strangers again tomorrow. At a wedding. With my ex.

What am I doing?

“We should get going,” Mason says, checking his watch as we head back into the main room. “Early day tomorrow.”

“Right,” I agree, desperate now to escape the awkwardness. “I should head home too.”

“We can give you a ride,” Liam offers immediately.

“No!” I say, too quickly. “I mean, no, thank you. My friend should actually be waiting for me.” I scan the room desperately and spot Zoe near the entrance, no doubt wondering where I am. “There she is now.”

“At least let us walk you out,” Caleb says, his hand returning to the small of my back.

I allow them to escort me through the crowd, acutely aware of the curious glances we attract. Four absurdly attractive men surrounding one omega creates a certain impression, and I can practically feel the gossip spreading through the room.

At the entrance, Jude leans in close. “Until tomorrow, doll,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my cheek in a gesture that’s just shy of inappropriate for public.

Liam offers a more reserved goodbye, squeezing my hand gently. “It was lovely meeting you.”

Caleb simply holds my gaze for a moment too long, his green eyes intense. “Be safe.”

Mason is the last to say goodbye. “Thanks for the interesting evening,” he says, a knowing glint in his eye that makes me wonder if he sees through the entire charade.

“See you tomorrow,” I say, offering a bright, slightly manic smile before practically sprinting towards Zoe.

“Who the hell were those guys?” she hisses as soon as I reach her. “And why were they all over you?”

“Car. Now,” I manage, grabbing her arm and steering her toward the exit. “I’ll explain everything, but we need to get out of here before I completely lose my mind.”

The cool night air hits me as we step outside, and I gulp it down gratefully. Zoe keeps shooting me confused looks as she leads me to her car.

“Are you drunk?” she demands as we buckle in. “Because you have that manic look you get when you’ve had too much champagne.”

“I wish I were drunk,” I groan, leaning my head back against the seat. “That would explain my terrible life choices.”

“Start talking,” she says, starting the car. “Who were those guys? The tall one with the green eyes looked like he wanted to eat you alive.”

“That’s Caleb,” I say, then immediately regret it when Zoe’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You’re on a first-name basis with them? Leah, what happened to ‘show up alone, smile through the pain, and leave early’?”

I cover my face with my hands. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got twenty minutes to your apartment,” she says, pulling onto the main road. “Start talking.”

So I do. I tell her about bumping into Jude, about Eric’s smug face, about the split-second decision to go along with their mistaken identity. By the time I get to the part where I agreed to attend the wedding with them tomorrow, Zoe nearly drives off the road.

“You’re actually going to the wedding with them?!” she shrieks. “Tomorrow? It’s gonna be a disaster!”

“I knowwww,” I groan. “But what choice did I have? Eric was right there , looking all superior with his ‘disappointed your pack isn’t coming’ bullshit.”

“Your fake pack,” Zoe clarifies, still looking shell-shocked. “Who think you’re someone else that they hired to pretend to be their omega for the weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And you gave them your real phone number.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re going to show up at Eric’s wedding tomorrow with these four strangers and somehow convince everyone—including them—that you’re part of their pack.”

Put like that, it sounds completely insane. “Yes?”

Zoe is quiet for a long moment, then bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, Leah. This is either the worst idea you’ve ever had or the beginning of something great.”

“It’s definitely the worst idea I’ve ever had,” I mutter, though the memory of Caleb’s hand on my back, of Liam’s gentle questions about my bakery, of Jude’s playful flirtation, and Mason’s quiet perceptiveness makes something flutter in my chest. “They’re going to figure out I’m not who they think I am. ”

“Probably,” Zoe agrees, unhelpfully.

“And then they’ll be angry.”

“Or intrigued,” she counters. “I mean, four extremely hot guys? Who seemed weirdly protective of you after knowing you for like, five minutes? That’s not nothing, Leah.”

“They were being polite,” I insist. “Playing along for their business contacts.”

Zoe snorts. “The way Green Eyes was looking at you wasn’t ‘polite.’ That was pure ‘I’d like you in my bed, baby. But I’m too much of a gentleman to say it outright’.”

I groan again.

I remember the intensity in Caleb’s gaze. The way he’d growled at Eric.

… The way I’d liked it.

Oh man, I’m screwwwed.

“It doesn’t matter.” I let out a breath. “After tomorrow, I’ll never see them again.”

“If you say so,” Zoe says, clearly unconvinced. “But just so we’re clear—I’m coming over early tomorrow to help you get ready. If you’re going to crash and burn, you might as well look hot doing it.”

I groan, leaning my head against the window. “What have I done?”

“Something incredibly stupid,” Zoe says cheerfully. “Or incredibly brilliant. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

The thought of facing the Le Roux pack again—of continuing this elaborate charade through an entire wedding ceremony and reception—makes my stomach twist with anxiety. But underneath the panic, there’s a tiny spark of excitement that won’t go away.

One more day of pretending. One more day with four alphas who made me feel more protected and desired in two hours than Eric did in two years.

What could possibly go wrong?