Page 24 of All Packed Up

Now that she was out of the way, he squatted down and grabbed the paper bag full of bath stuff the sales lady had promised any omega would love.

“These might help,” he offered, and sat the bag on the counter.

Nic lifted his hands and grinned, backing away. Wendy stuck her hand in the water to feel the temperature and huffed.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” she warned, and snapped the shower shut. “And not just because you have a nice ass.”

Nic chuckled and stepped out of the bathroom, pulling the door too. “Thank you for the compliment, Mouse.”

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Wendy called out, frowning down at the bag’s contents, ignoring the tease.

“I know,” Nic responded simply. He didn’t have to do anything. But Wendy was… he wanted to help. “Call if you need me, okay? Seriously.”

Nic shook his head, a fond smile threatening to curl his lips, but he turned his back before it could take over.

He hurried to dress and grab his keys before he reset the alarm and flew out the door, down the stairs, and through the front lobby.

He saw the swirls of smoke in the air before he even opened the door, and he braced himself to try and cut the conversation short.

“Hey-ey, it’s C69,” Tate said, flicking the ash off his joint in the ashtray.

Traffic passed by on the street just past their little privacy shrubs. But none of them needed to worry because marijuana had been decriminalized and legalized years ago, especially once they found out how much it can help omegas through their heats. Granted, each city had its own regulations, but Upton was pretty lax.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?” Arlo drawled. He took the joint from his roommate with a stretch of fingers.

Nic rolled his eyes, feet coming to a stop despite what he’d just told himself. “I don’t really have time right now, guys. I need to—”

To what? Get fancy cheeses at a fucking gas station. With an irritated huff, he pulled his phone out, opened the maps app, and typed cheese in the search bar.

A sandwich shop.

That was his only hit.

“What the hell are you doing at two in the morning?” Tate asked. The blond, built alpha looked comfy in sweats and a tee—was the damned guy impervious to the cold?

Arlo inhaled, joint glowing bright orange, and he spoke on an exhale. “You’ve been acting weird, dude.”

Nic blinked down at them. “What do you mean, weird?”

“Like… you’ve got an omega in heat weird,” Tate hinted again.

Nic tensed. Okay, okay, so he wasn’t doing a great job of hiding her. Wonderful.

But they both shared a look before grins broke out across their faces. “Congrats, man,” Arlo offered, tipping the short stub of the joint at him. “It’s about time you found someone.”

Nic’s mouth parted to respond, but no words came to mind, and it didn’t matter because Tate talked over him anyway.

“It’s awesome that you’ve found an omega,” Tate babbled. “I mean, we haven’t been looking but it would be nice to have someone.”

Arlo scoffed, running a hand over the fade at his temple before brushing over his buzzed afro. “You have me, fuckhead.”

“Yeah, but I mean someone who doesn’t call me fuckhead, asshole,” Tate retorted.

“Well, maybe I want someone who doesn’t call me an asshole.”

Nic chuckled at their antics but began backing away. “Thanks, guys, but I’ve got to go—”

“You’re not leaving your omega, are you?” Arlo asked, narrowing his gaze.