Page 20 of Final Drive

“Okay?”

“I’ll try to stop spiraling. No promises.”

Jackson smiles, which he does about twice a season. “I’ll take it. We’re going to be here a while yet, so you may as well get comfortable.”

“You planned that.”

“I planned exactly none of this.” He reaches past me and shuts off the water, and the sudden quiet is enormous. “Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Longer if you keep doing that thing with your hands.”

I blink at him. “Was that a joke?”

“It happens.”

“Does Eli know you’re secretly funny?”

“Eli knows everything.” He gathers me against his chest, taking my weight off the wall. “Don’t spread it around. I have a reputation.”

I laugh into his shoulder, caught off guard by this version of Jackson, the one who teases and smiles and lets himself be looked at. It’s the first time all week I’ve been able to put something down.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zane

The moan that comes down through the second floor is loud enough to make Gray choke on his beer.

“Jesus Christ.” Beckett looks at the ceiling. “They know we can hear them, right?”

“They don’t care.” Tyler doesn’t look up from the laptop, where he’s been working on the pack bond filing for the last hour. “Post-claiming hormones. The drive to reconnect is biological.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wu.” Beckett salutes him with his beer. “Really takes the romance out of it.”

Another sound comes down, this one unmistakably Reese, and I can’t help myself. “Damn. Jackson’s rougher with her than he is with Eli.”

The room goes still, and I remember one second too late that Eli is sitting at the other end of the couch. I brace for the death glare.

He smirks instead. “I know how to keep quiet.” He takes a slow drink. “Wait until it’s my turn. She won’t.”

Bo laughs and the tension goes out of the room. “Appreciate the warning. I’ll buy earplugs.”

“Or don’t,” Eli says, and he isn’t entirely joking.

Gray clears his throat. “So we’re doing this out loud now.”

“Isn’t that the point?” I put my feet on the coffee table until Bo swats them off. “We’re filing pack paperwork. We’re all going to be bonded to her. Feels strange to keep pretending none of us think about it.”

“He’s got a point,” Cameron says from the corner chair.

Gray rubs a hand down his face. “Fine. Cards on the table. What are we actually doing here?”

“Legally speaking⁠—”

“Not legally, Tyler. Logistically.” Gray waves at the ceiling, where things have quieted down some. “Jackson’s claimed her. Beckett’s claimed her. The rest of us are supposed to follow before nationals. How does that work? Do we draw straws? Make a schedule?”

Beckett stares at him. “A schedule. For claiming our Omega. Very romantic, Captain.”

“You got a better idea?”

“We don’t need an idea,” Bo says. “We let it happen when it happens.”