Even when I was dancing professionally, I didn’t feel this… fulfilled.
Tristan pulls me into a hug, looking chagrined by my alpha’s chiding. “Youdodo good work, Ren.”
I hum and lean back again, just to double check everything. “You’re going to make whoever you’re trying to impress very happy.”
His mouth quirks. “Not trying to impress anyone.”
“Liar.”
He grins, unrepentant and shrugs.
“Petal’s going to lose her mind,” I add, softer, testing a theory I’ve developed over the last few months.
That earns me a flush and a mumbled, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Interesting.
Veryinteresting.
Before I can poke at that further, the door opens again, voices spilling up the stairwell—Haven’s laugh, Petal’s softer tone, Creed’s low rumble.
“Look who we found wandering the streets,” my best friend calls brightly as they make their way up the stairs, too many footsteps for just the three of them.
I know who it is before they crest the stairs.
My pack, all of them. Unable to stay away for long. Haven arrives first, Creed on her heels, they both head directly to Grieves and Lyla in his arms. Petal stops at the top of the stairs when her blue eyes land on Tristan they widen almost comically, a flush that matches her hair colors her cheeks, before she blinks and her normal dreamy expression takes over. “Tris! You look so dashing!”
The male omega rolls his eyes like this isn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for.
“You’re causing a backup here, Petal,” Court says cheerfully, hooking his hands under the omega’s armpits and lifting her out of the way. Tristan’s lip curls in almost a snarl, but Petal laughs.
“Sorry! Sorry! I was caught up in how gorgeous my best friend looks.”
That takes some of the venom out of Tristan’s expression. But he still eyes where Court is touching Petal with distaste. I’m not even sure I can blame him, if I didn’t have a direct line to my alpha’s heart and he wasn’t pumping heaps of love toward me, I might get a little possessive too.
“Hi, Pix!” he sets Petal on her feet and bounds over to me, smelling like paint and fresh canvas and spiced cranberries. He’s still releasing artwork under that anonymous name, though some of his works are making it more and more obvious that he’s the artist.
Specifically ones of me.
He reaches for me only to draw up short when Thayer calls out.
“Are your hands clean? Don’t touch our omega if they aren’t. You don’t want to get paint on her.”
I turn my glare on the professor, even though it’s damn hard to maintain it when he comes in looking like that. With his glasses perched on his nose and one of those slutty cardigans hugging his broad frame. I’ve warned him not to wear them around his students, because I’m sure half of them spend his lectures daydreaming about peeling it off him, but he doesn’t listen.
I think he likes seeing me jealous.
“Excuse you? He can kiss me if he wants to. You know I’m not precious about my clothes.”
Court grins and slides his hands onto my cheeks, something wet definitely smears on my left one, but I couldn’t care less when his lips meet mine. “Missed you today, Pixie.”
I laugh and kiss him again. “It’s only been a few hours.”
“Too long. You know if I could tuck you into my pocket and carry you around with me all day, I would.”
“Yes, but then neither of you would get anything done.” Thayer nudges him out of the way, quirking a brow at the paint smear on my cheek before he bends to kiss the other one. “Missed you too, killer.”
“Why do we need to get things done?” Court asks as Piers steps into my design space, carrying a picnic basket.