Page 35 of Final Drive

She follows me upstairs. My room’s messier than I’d like, clothes over the desk chair and textbooks stacked on the floor in a way that would give Tyler an aneurysm, but the bed’s made. My mother put that in me at six and it never came out.

I aim the projector at the blank wall. “Pick your poison. Comedy, action, something with subtitles so we can pretend we’re cultured?”

“Something dumb. Something I don’t have to think about.”

I put on a comedy I’ve already seen three times. The picture takes up most of the wall and throws the room into a flicker, but I don’t watch much of it. Reese sits beside me with her legs tucked under her, and over the next twenty minutes some of the tension works its way out of her shoulders.

Then she starts talking.

“She knew I wasn’t staying in my dorm. My mother called the housing office and found out I haven’t swiped my keycard in weeks.”

“That’s creepy as hell.”

“That’s my mother.” She pulls her knees up. “She asked where I’ve been sleeping like she didn’t already have the answer.”

I pause the movie. “What did you say?”

“The truth. That I’ve been here because I didn’t feel safe. She said my solution to being stalked was moving in with eight men. Like that’s worse than being alone in a dorm somebody already broke into.”

“Your mom sounds like a real piece of work.”

“She’s terrified of what people think. Her Omega daughter, living with a pack of Alphas.” Her mouth twists. “She doesn’t care whether I’m happy or safe. She cares whether I’m respectable.”

I want to pull her against me and tell her that her mother’s opinion is worth exactly nothing. I’m not sure she wants hands on her right now, so I keep mine where they are.

“Tyler was incredible,” she says after a while. “When my mom said it, he shut her down cold. Told her to apologize.”

“Tyler?” I don’t manage to keep it out of my voice. “Our Tyler? Mister Spreadsheets?”

“He’s not who I thought he was.” Something soft comes into her face. “Afterward we pulled over and talked. He told me things about himself. Then he kissed me.”

Tyler kissed her. I knew this was coming. We all knew, with the pack bond and the claiming and Tyler practically living inside the paperwork for the last week. That’s the entire point of what we’re doing, but knowing it and hearing it are two different animals.

“Oh,” I manage. “That’s good. That’s great.”

Reese turns to look at me. “Zane.”

“No, really. Tyler deserves somebody like you. He’s been gone on you since forever, he just didn’t have a procedure for it. I’m happy for you guys.”

“Zane.”

“Somebody had to make a move eventually. We can’t all keep circling like lovesick idiots⁠—”

“Zane.” Her hand lands on my arm and shuts me off. “Are you jealous?”

“What? No. That’s ridiculous.” I look back at the frozen movie. “Why would I be jealous? We’re a pack. Sharing is the whole architecture.”

“You are. You’re jealous that Tyler kissed me.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m impatient.”

“Impatient.”

“I’ve been waiting, okay?” It’s out before I can stop it. “Trying to do the decent thing. Give you room, don’t push, don’t be one more Alpha crowding you. And then Tyler kisses you in a hundred-thousand-dollar car after one dinner, and I’ve been right here the entire time, and⁠—”

I stop and take a breath. “Sorry. That came out wrong. Tonight was hard for you and I’m making it about me, which is a thing I do.”

She’s quiet for a moment before she shifts closer, near enough that I can smell her shampoo.