Page 72 of Pack End Game

Freddie wrinkles his nose. "It's pretty rude of the team to schedule a game when we have other plans."

All I can do is shake my head at him. Freddie's humor does nothing to ease the ache in my chest.

I focus on Spencer and feel a painful squeeze in my chest. I can see the guilt written all over his face. This information is splitting his loyalty between the needs of the pack and the needs of his team. There's no way for him to win. Someone has to be let down.

So I do the only thing I can offer him in the way of comfort.

I smile.

Or at least I do my best attempt at a smile, hoping like hell that my expression doesn't accidentally look tragic or closer to constipation, instead.

"It's totally fine," I say in a voice I think is surprisingly believable.

Spencer rubs at the wrinkles forming on his forehead. Wrinkles this beautiful man doesn't deserve to have after buying the house of my dreams. I wrap my arms around his waist loosely and look up at him.

"Waiting for the zoning change isn't ideal," I continue quickly, so there's no room for anyone to interrupt, "but your jobs are important. I don't want you to be distracted by this before an away game. We took care of the most important part–getting the retirement home."

"Former retirement palace," Freddie corrects. "Future sexy domestic compound."

I ignore him with the efforts of a saint.

He's too damn funny for a moment this serious.

Spencer studies my face too closely. "Mia..."

I'm not sure he believes the brave face I'm putting on. "I mean it," I insist anyway. "This isn't a choice between your team and me. You're showing up for both of us exactly the way you're meant to."

As much as I want my nest and their knots, it can't be at the expense of Spencer's sanity. I won't let him feel guilty for his loyalty to the team. Not when that's something so wonderful about him, his loyalty to everything and everyone he loves.

I'm lucky to be one of those things.

We'll find another way to push the zoning change forward.

I keep the smile plastered to my face, even as the conversation gently turns to other topics. Remodel timelines. Permit applications. Landscaping recommendations. I try my best to keep up with it all, but the ache in my chest makes it hard to concentrate.

The building is ours.

Our home is ours.

I just can't live in it yet.

And my heat, inconvenient little menace that it is, will not care about that distinction one bit.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zak

I've spent so many years traveling to away games on coach buses just like this one, to the point that the smell calms something in me the second I step on board. Game days have their own rhythm, and for away games, the bus ride is part of it.

Normally, I like the routine of it all.

Today, I hate being this far from home.

Home.

A word that doesn't quite exist in our world right now, and that's exactly why I can't relax into the bus ride like normal.

Mia's apartment is the closest we have to a functional home right now, but we all know it's only a temporary solution. She tried to offer to suck it up and stay at our house so we'd all have more space, but none of us could bear to let her do that. She's too uncomfortable in the house we had built before we knew her.