Page 20 of Pack End Game

He stares at me with wide, confused eyes. The words don't seem to compute.

"Did you somehow miss the fact that these guys are obviously my scent-matches?" I bat my eyelashes at him. "So, yes, I'm definitely going to wait around until I can leave with them. Duh."

Milo gapes at me, still confused for some reason. This is why I always argue that I'm the smarter twin.

If the situation were reversed, I doubt he’d decide to jump in a rideshare to head home instead of jumping the bones of his own scent-match.

Ew, I don’t need that image in my head.

He steps closer and lowers his voice as if the guys three feet behind him won't still hear him. "Don't let the scent-match go to your head. You should have some space, take a deep breath, and then meet again on neutral ground."

I throw my head back and laugh. None of that sounds like something I would do.

"No thanks." I lean around him to finger wave at Spencer, Zak, and Freddie. "Hurry up and get changed so you can take me home, boys!"

Spencer and Zak break into matching grins. Forget getting to know each other, I'm ready to fall into bed and see if the sexual chemistry is as good as our scent chemistry.

Freddie pulls his sloth head off and tucks it under his arm, revealing his boyishly handsome face. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes as he looks over at Spencer and Zak. He takes a deep breath that feels heavy with hesitation, and then says, "We probably ought to wait for the stadium to clear out completely before we walk out together."

"What? Why?" I saw plenty of security on my way into the stadium. I'm sure there's plenty on the way out, too, if he's worried about safety.

Simultaneously, as if they rehearsed the gesture beforehand, all of them drop their eyes to my outfit. Even my brother, the traitor, looks down at the pants I only own because of him. Freddie grimaces openly, while Zak and Spencer more carefully keep their features schooled in passive expressions.

Oh, right... I look like I picked my outfit out of a donation bin at the local thrift store during a power outage. Even the guy in the sloth suit doesn't want to be seen with me dressed like this.

Chapter Eleven

Mia

The stadium parking lot is completely deserted as we pull out of the only gate that hasn't already been locked. Zak swears there are still plenty of staff on site, and they're just parked on the other side of the stadium, but I have my doubts.

I can't believe I met my three mates while wearing pajama pants.

"You all know I was serious when I said I don't normally look like this, right?"

Zak is seated beside me, and he avoids direct eye contact when I look his way. Spencer and Freddie are also notably silent from their respective seats up front. Spencer is driving, which doesn't surprise me one bit. Apparently, Freddie is usually the one relegated to the back seat because Zak has longer legs, but Spencer told Freddie he couldn't be trusted alone in the back seat with me just yet.

I'm not sure if the head alpha is worried about Freddie putting the moves on me, or if he's worried the beta will do something embarrassing enough to scare me off. Either way, Freddie's pouting as Zak slid into the backseat beside me was an amusing way to start this drive together.

"I own regular clothes. Nice ones. I actually would consider my style to be very boss babe chic, super hot but professional." I'm pretty sure the more I talk, the less convincing I sound. I'm starting to gaslight myself into worrying that my closet might actually be filled with pajama pants and decades-old t-shirts.

And stolen coats.

Can't forget the coat.

I pet the precious coat where it lies folded neatly in my lap. Zak still refuses to take the coat back, even though I can feel it yearning for its rightful owner. Or is that me yearning for him? The coat and I have kind of synced up and become one at this point. The least he could do is offer to roll around on it so it will smell like him again.

Or we could both roll around on it so it can smell like us.

A life spent wrapped around Zak's muscular arms doesn't sound so bad. I wouldn't mind being pressed up against his chest, either. I can see a smattering of dark chest hair peeking out from the V-neck of his gray t-shirt.

"Earth to Mia." Zak chuckles as he waves his hand in front of my face.

"Hmm?" I wipe the corners of my mouth just in case my drooling is too obvious. Don't need these guys knowing I'm staring at them like a starving fox peeking through the chicken wire at a delicious flock of potential fried drumsticks and chicken wings.

"I asked how far your home is from the stadium," Spencer repeats his inquiry for me, glancing in the rearview mirror and winking at me when our eyes meet.

We already agreed to go back to their place, so I know he's only asking out of curiosity and not a need for directions. I think about my earlier rush to the stadium. "Oh... about a twenty-minute run if you're not in great shape but are very motivated to get somewhere fast to do a favor for your twin brother, who doesn't know you're playing hooky from the office, which would have only been a ten-minute, fast walk from the stadium."