“Nesting,” she says, like it’s obvious. “It’s instinct.”
I want ask for clarification on where that puts our standing as a pack, but I chicken out. If nothing else, I wouldn’t be surprised if that clarifying doesn’t happen until after Reverie’s run ends in September. Instead, I watch her pile up a mountain of comforters and realize that I’d buy her the whole store if she asked.
Fowler wanders off and returns with a lava lamp and three jars of honey. “Emergency supplies.”
Grace nearly chokes laughing.
By the time we get to the checkout, our cart looks like it was raided by a sleep-deprived toddler. Grace insists on carrying the bear herself, cradling it to her chest all the way to the car.
“You’re going to have to haul this up two flights of stairs,” I warn her.
She shrugs, cheerful. “Worth it.”
We head backto the cast apartments. Zev handles the heavier stuff. Fowler and I grab the rest, with me taking far more than Fowler who navigates the stairs with crutches. Grace leads the way, almost skipping, her bare legs peeking out from under the hem of Zev’s sweatshirt.
Inside, Grace dumps her pillows onto her bed and sets to work, arranging them just so, testing each configuration before settling. It hits me that she’ll just have to move all this stuff out in a few weeks when Reverie ends. Then what?
“Do you want help?” I ask.
Grace looks up, eyes shining. “I like doing it myself.”
So we let her. An hour or so later, we all settle into her new bed and nest with Grace. It’s far cozier than Zev’s bed was during Grace’s heat. And while she likely won’t have another before Reverie’s over, at least shehasa nest now. Her face has lit up in a way I’ve not yet seen. She needed this.
And it feels so, so right.
CHAPTER 28
GRACE
Boston’s summer is a humid hand pressing down on your face. I was supposed to be back on the ice two days ago, but post-heat fatigue doesn’t care about your contracts or your dreams. I got a doctor’s note, turned in my absence form, and then slept for twenty-seven straight hours after returning to my apartment.
Now my body is eager to move. Albeit, move toward my alphas, but still. The last time I saw them, I was delirious and cradled in their arms, all of us slick with sweat and pheromones.
Soon.But first, I need to repack my skate bag for my return tomorrow. Charlotte’s been over for an hour now hanging out and helping me.
“I heard you were amazing,” I say.
Charlotte grins and lifts her chin. “It was a hell of a good time, but I’m happy to relinquish the Princess role back to you.”
I shrug. “You could keep it for the rest of the run if you wanted. Enjoy the spotlight.”
She takes her head. “No, thank you. That big jump in Act 3 is terrifying.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Plus it feels weird falling into your alpha’s arms.”
I playfully smack her arm. “You’re not going to stop bugging me about this are you?”
Charlotte rests a hand on her chest. “That you spent a surprise heat with them after barely talking to Connor on Day 1? Absolutely not.” But then her smile warms. “I’m happy you sorted it out though. It was obvioussomethingwas still there between you all despite everything.”
I nod. Sometimes I can’t believe it either. And while I’m not foolish enough to think there’s not still work to do, I’m happy to meet it head-on.
Something bangs in the hallway, and I jolt. Charlotte looks at the door. “Are you expecting someone?”
I shake my head, pulse doubling. But there’s no reason for that. It could literally be anyone coming home right now.
There’s another thump, louder this time, then a volley of slurred laughter. Their scents hit before their voices do: beer and a sour-candy tang. Three of them. Tanner, Evan, and Chris.
Charlton Pack is back.
“Don’t answer it,” I whisper. Not that Charlotte was moving toward the door in the first place. If I can scent them, Charlotte sure as hell can.
