I slump against the wall, all the tension that’s been buzzing through me releasing in a wave of fatigue and defeat. There’s a faint current of Camille’s emotions inside me, the thin thread of our one-sided bond calling to me. She’s no longer actively upset, but there’s still a lot of worry.
Worry thatIcaused. Worry I need to make better.
I head back to my office and shut the door, sagging into my chair with a groan, only to spring back up and start pacing a minute later. There’s no way I’m getting any work done now, and I can’t lurk by her office waiting to pounce the moment Camillereturns.
I grab my phone and head down to the parking garage, pulling up the pack group chat on the way.
River: I’m coming home for lunch. We need to have an emergency pack meeting.
By the time I’m in my car, I’ve gotten a reply. Thank god for Jackson’s addiction to his phone.
Jackson: I’m here, but Ambrose is at work.
Jackson: But whatever it is, I can help you figure it out.
Shit. Ambrose leaves his phone in his office when he’s working. It might be hours before he checks it. I could call the front desk and ask them to page him for me, but having sex with and bonding Camille isn’t exactly a genuine emergency.
River: Okay, thanks.
Anxiety makes my stomach clench violently.
River: I fucked up. It’s bad.
I set my phone down on the passenger seat as it vibrates with a flurry of incoming text notifications, and start the engine. A moment later it rings, coming through the car speakers.
With a groan, I answer it.
“You can’t say ‘it’s bad’ and then stop replying!” Jackson’s panicked voice yells from the other end. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. I’ll tell you then.”
“Nope. Tell me now,” Jacksoninsists.
Maybe it’s better to tell him over the phone. Face-to-face, he’d be able to strangle me for my idiotic behavior.
I release a shaky exhale and pull out into traffic, white knuckling the wheel as I build the courage to speak.
Jackson sighs, softening his voice. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. But I need to know, dude.”
“Shit, okay. So… Camille came to talk to me in my office. She was upset about something she overheard me say to Ambrose when she spent the night.”
“Oh fuck,” Jackson groans, assuming that I screwed things up in my standard way of making Camille feel unwelcome.
If only that were the case.
“Let me finish!” I snap, though I’m not sure why I’m being so pissy about the interruption when what I’m going to say next is even worse.
“Okay, okay, damn,” Jackson grumbles.
“I explained to her that what she heard was out of context. I was upset that she’d eavesdropped on a private conversation, and, uh, well, things… escalated.”
“Escalated? Like you yelled at each other? Man, please tell me you didn’t call off the courtship. I thought we’d agreed to make all the decisions together. You can’t choose to do that on your own. It’s not fair!”
“I know. I know that. It wasn’t yelling. We… I told her I have feelings for her. Blurted it out, really. My alpha couldn’t stand her not knowing any longer and I asked her to put me out of my misery and reject me so we could move on accordingly. But… uh… She didn’t.”
There’s a long pause as Jackson processes my words. I sit at a red light, heart slamming against my ribcage as I wait for him to reply.
“Riv, that’s fucking amazing news. You told her and she’s down to be with you too? I don’t get what the problem is. Imean, yeah, we’ll need to figure out stuff with your job, but it’ll be okay.” He chuckles. “It’s your turn to rely on us for a change.”
