Page 4 of Pack End Game

“It’s cold and windy enough to have a weather advisory today,” Spencer says with a sigh.

I shrug. “We’ll be inside soon.”

Our pack alpha looks over at Zak, “You still haven’t found your coat anywhere after last winter?”

Zak wraps his arms around himself and hunches his shoulders. “Nope, and I thought it’d be warmer.”

Spencer looks at him pointedly before letting out a sigh that sounds a lot like he might be the only functioning adult here. Hilarious, considering Zak is usually the one taking up the most parental role. “There’s an easy solution here. We can afford another coat, so you don’t have to go through a second winter without one.”

I nod along, just to appear sensible and agreeable. I like to keep my alphas on their toes like that.

Zak rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched. “It’s not a big deal. I have other coats.”

“Then where are they?” I ask.

“Somewhere.”

I snort. “Makes total sense.”

Zak doesn’t respond to me right away, nodding to the security guard at the players' entrance instead. “Have a good day, Hal.”

Hal gives him a silent salute in return, his eyes already checking out whoever is walking up behind us.

We continue the path to the locker room, the tunnel entrance designated for the team is a little dark and creepy, but much warmer than the outside temperature.

Zak shrugs one shoulder, finally continuing our conversation. “I like my old coat more than any of the other ones I own.”

Spencer’s gaze sharpens slightly. “The old one?”

“Yeah.”

“The one with holes in the pockets? Didn’t you buy that one during your first pro season years ago?”

Spencer is acting as if the coat is just a pile of rags, but we both know Zak impulsively spent a significant amount of money on his wardrobe that year, worried about his image. Rookies tend to get judged pretty harshly by the media, and Zak has always leaned into the style of a stay-at-home Dad who’s about to start working on the lawn any second.

He’s more comfortable with himself these days. Playing for a team that doesn’t prioritize social media probably helps.

Zak smiles faintly, probably still reminiscing about the missing coat. “It was comfortable.”

I can’t help but smile, too.

I’ve heard all the wild stories of Zak’s first year playing professionally. We didn’t become a pack until a few years later, but I can still remember seeing snippets online about the slightly older tight end who takes his position on the team very seriously.

Spencer studies Zak for a beat longer, then softens just a fraction. “We can get you something comfortable.”

“I know.” Zak shrugs again. “I just keep thinking maybe the coat will reappear someday. Like I left it somewhere obvious, and I’ll remember. It’s dumb.”

I nudge him with my elbow. “That’s not dumb. I once spent three weeks convinced I’d lost my favorite sweatband, only to find it in my gym bag the whole time. If I didn’t have the familiar smell of bodily fluids around my forehead, I’d be upset too.”

Spencer looks unimpressed. “That is not the same thing.”

“It was devastating,” I insist with a gasp. I love grating on my alpha’s nerves. I’m doing my best to keep him humble that way.

Zak laughs under his breath, and the tension melts.

“Next week,” Spencer says over his shoulder as he walks ahead, “We’re buying you a coat if your beloved relic has not reappeared.”

Oh, a Spencer-sactioned-shopping trip? Count me in. Spoiling us with gifts is like foreplay for him, so the sex afterward is sure to include multiple orgasms for everyone. Maybe I’ll insist on a stop at a kink shop for a new toy.