Page 19 of Pack End Game

"Let's table that discussion for later," suggests my coat's rightful owner. "There are more important things to focus on right now." He smiles down at me, and it's a thrilling feeling to be smiled down at. I'm taller than average for a female omega.

I return his smile and squeeze his coat tighter around me, trying to imagine it’s his arms embracing me.

"I'm Zak Klein, tight end for the Sloths," he introduces himself, holding his hand out to mine. An electric shock of awareness zaps through me when I place my smaller hand in his seemingly giant one. With hands like that, he was born to play a throwing and catching sport.

The moment Zak releases my hand, Spencer swoops in to take his place. "I'm Spencer Mills, quarterback and captain."

Such formal introductions would feel too stiff and business-like for me if it weren't for Freddie stepping forward to take his turn next, holding his sloth claw out to me and waiting patiently for me to shake it. "And I'm Simon the Sloth, but you can call me by my government name, which is Freddie. And I’ll call you my little leafy green, since that’s what sloths like to eat." Without being able to see the man behind the mascot mask, I'm not sure how seriously I'm supposed to take this introduction, so I bite back the urge to laugh.

Delicately, I shake the long, plastic claws attached to his mascot suit. Letting go after enough time passes that I don't think I'll offend Freddie–or Simon the Sloth.

"I'm Mia, and this is the most surreal moment of my entire life," I murmur as the sloth claws release my hand. I look at each of the three of them, my lips slowly forming a smile so wide it makes my cheeks ache to hold the grin.

I wish I could go into heat right this second, even if it meant they were dragging me back into the supply closet to knot me. Now that I have them in my sights, I don't want them to go anywhere. I'm so excited to know them, to learn every detail about them.

What were their childhoods like?

How did they find each other?

Are they comfortable working with sex toys in the bedroom? I would love to pitch a partnership with the Sloths to Quinn for a new line of team-inspired toys.

But I can't ask that last question with my brother still lingering nearby. The smile fades from my face as I look at him, wondering why he's still here. Doesn't he realize that now I've met my scent-matches and he's free to go?

My brother is always such a cockblocker. I try to give him the sign to excuse himself by wiggling my eyebrows at him aggressively. Something he doesn’t catch on to. My brother is also obtuse.

An obtuse cockblocker.

Milo realizes he has a fleeting moment of my attention and lurches forward, putting himself between the three other men and me. "Well, this was interesting. We should really get going, though. Members of the press aren't allowed in the team-only areas of the stadium without a special pass, and the team owner never gives them out here."

What is he talking about? I scrunch my nose, confused that he's trying to get me to leave.

"I can give you a ride back to the office," Milo adds, as if that holds any appeal. I forgot I still haven't explained that I wasn't at work when he called.

A little white lie is totally fine. "I'm not due back at the office today." I smile very convincingly, but he narrows his eyes anyway. Why did we have to be born twins? I swear he has a sixth sense for when I'm lying.

"Don't you need to go back for your laptop?" he asks pointedly.

He's got me there. I never leave the office without my designer laptop bag in tow. The cute leather bag was a splurge after I helped land a huge deal my first year with the company. That bag rarely leaves my sight for more than a couple of hours at a time. I sleep with it next to the bed. Hell, a couple of times I've slept with it in my bed.

No judgment allowed–the bed gets cold at night when you're single for too long. Any companionship feels welcome, even if it's from an expensive designer accessory.

Spencer scoffs, saving me from the consequences of my own white lie. "You said yourself that Mia isn't a camera person, so she's more than welcome to be back here as our guest. We'll make sure she gets home safely." He looks at me, careful not to leave me out of this conversation that's about me. "Freddie has a private dressing room where you can wait for us while we get changed, and then we can give you a ride anywhere you want to go."

The offer is so kind of him. I have lots of ideas of places where they could give me a ride.

Milo is already shaking his head. "That's ridiculous. She came here for me. I'll be the one who takes her home."

There was a time in our childhood when my twin tricked me into hiding from our parents at the mall, telling me it would be hilarious. In reality, it was just an excuse for him to try to eat my haul from the candy store before they found me.

It took over an hour for him to confess, and only after several security guards got involved in the search.

But sure, today he wants to play the protective brother role.

Spencer shuffles from foot to foot, and I can sense he's losing his patience. His eucalyptus scent turns slightly wilted as he glares at the back of my brother's head. "Not happening, buddy. And Mia can decide for herself what she wants to do when she leaves the stadium. She might want to come home with us."

"No way!" My brother's ears flush red with anger as he whirls around to face Spencer. I take a step back to avoid being hit by the camera in his hand as his arms swing around.

My white belt brother does not need to be attempting to go toe-to-toe with a professional athlete. I tap him on the shoulder to bring his attention back to me and clear my throat so that my next words are incredibly clear. "Yes way."