Seb raises an eyebrow, struggling to keep a straight face, and holds out his hand, palm up. Dellie places her phone in it.
"Hey, Loz!" he chokes out. "I'm Seb, and Dellie was kind enough to hang out with my pack and me for a bit tonight. You from our neck of the woods?"
I hear a huffed sigh from down the phone. "Not fucking likely. You sound like a Sydney North Shore fucker if ever I heard one."
Dellie is bent over in gales of silent laughter, tears coursing from her eyes. Seb snorts, but a muscle in his jaw gives a tiny flicker.
"Okay, that's fair. But Bondi, I swear. Via New York. Anyway, I just wanted to ring and let you know Dellie is with us. We'll look after her and make sure she isn't pressured into anything—and we'll make sure she gets home safe."
"Oh yeah?" The nasal twang on the phone turns skeptical. "And who's 'us'? And then I wanna speak to Dellie properly, make sure you aren't some psycho fuckers who actually have her locked in a basement somewhere."
I try, and fail, to hold back my laughter. "I'm glad she has a friend like you to have her back, Loz. I'm Allen Xerxes. And the rest of our pack is James and Zeke and, uh, Ralph. We're staying down in Brentwood—"
"Oooooh. Fancy." The voice sounds a little snarky.
"Crikey Moses, Loz! Let the man finish," giggles Dellie.
"Huh. Only if he makes sureyoufinish first," Loz grumbles down the phone. This has Sebastian nodding violently and James hiding his mouth behind his palm as his face glows red.
"Oh, don't worry, Loz, I will," I say, winking at Dellie, who is now the color of a tomato. "But only if she wants to—and if she asksverynicely. And I'll make sure she gets home safe."
"Yeah, you fucking well better. Treat her right, you hear? And for the love of fuck, please make sure she sends me her fucking location. Babes here keeps forgetting to do that," she grumbles, pointedly.
Zeke waves at me, pointing at the black SUV that's pulling up around the corner. He cocks his head at me and raises his eyebrows, silently asking permission. I wave it away, trying not to let my irritation show. He shrugs, and he disappears inside.
I clear my throat. "I will. Loz, our car's here, so I'll need to let you go. Thanks for having Dellie's back."
I turn off the speaker and hand the phone to Dellie, holding the door open for her as she climbs in. She's in the back row, wedged between Zeke and Clarke; Seb, James and I are in the middle row. Zeke is fussing over Dellie's seatbelt, which initially refused to latch properly. James is turned around, glaring back at Zeke, his mouth half open, as though he's about to remind him not to twist too far.
I mutter a perfunctory greeting to Charlie, who's calmly sitting in the driver's seat like the best scent in the world isn't curling out invitingly from the back row; but, ever the professional, he simply returns it with a polite nod as he pulls away from the curb.
She's murmuring into the phone. I try not to eavesdrop, but can't help the smirk tugging at my lips when I hear the whispered snap down the line that sounds an awful lot like "they are really freaking hot, okay?!"
Seb leans over to me, and points at the time on his phone. It's not even eleven. We will be home well before midnight. "I told you, we would leave with Cinderella," he says, glancing back at Dellie, "and you'd better be hungry."
My left eyebrow shoots up. "And if I can't find any words to eat?" I murmur.
He shrugs, grinning wickedly. "You're the clever one. I'm sure you'll think of something."
Chapter 6
Holy crap. What the heck have I just done?
There is a little voice in my head that is freaking out about the fact that I am in the back seat of a chauffeured SUV with five men who look like they should be gracing the covers of magazines. The voice doesn't seem to care that these men are kind, that they're worried about who's looking after me, that they're sosupportivethat it's literally their job title. Or that, within fifteen minutes of meeting him, one of them said what I hadn't realised I'd been waiting my whole life to hear—that I could still be worth listening to even if I'm not saying things perfectly.
The little voice wants to panic, then run screaming, and hide under the bed becausewhy the heck would men like them want someone like me?Fortunately, it's mostly being drowned out by the ball of excitement in my chest that must be my omega, who seems to be having a full-on freak out about how incredible these guys smell.
To be fair to her, I can't remember ever scenting anyone quite this clearly before. The scent of the six of us together reminds me of somewhere… safe, but also fresh and green and slightly damp from an afternoon shower. The excited flurry in my gut is screaming at me that they're my sce—
But the little voice in my head is panicking about what might happen and trying to scream louder. I force myself to takea deep breath. The whirling scents mingling in my chest mute my panic to a dull roar.
I'm safe. This isn't Pack Simpson. There's nobody who's going to record me. This is just for tonight and—well, if it's working—for my heat. And at least I know we actually all want the same thing.
Wait…doI actually know that?
I bite my lip as Lauren's parting words echo in my mind."Make sure you tell 'em you're down to fuck, 'cuz these fuckers sound pretty serious about consent, and you kinda sound like you're about to go into a heat spike, babes. And for fuck's sake, turn on your fucking location, so if I'm wrong about them, then at least I know where to send the cops."
The maelstrom settles inside me as I suck in another delicious breath, and something I could easily mistake for certainty peeks through.
