Page 41 of All Packed Up

A different kind of nice than Wendy had ever known.

“So are we nice too? Since we’re helping out?” Arlo asked, a challenge in his tone.

Wendy blew the smoke in his direction. “That’s yet to be seen.”

“Gonna share?” Tate asked, and she turned to find his attention latched onto the smoking tip of the joint.

Wendy held it out to him. “Yeah, sorry.”

“So you have smoked before?” Tate asked again, narrowing his gaze. “I don’t wanna get you stoned.”

“Yeah, back before—” Before the alphas told her it was trashy. “It’s been a few years.”

Tate stretched his arm overhead and passed the joint to Arlo in the chair behind him, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he did so. His shirt lifted, hinting at a toned and tanned stomach.

“We smoke daily. Helps take the edge off.”

“Off what?” she asked.

“Off life,” Arlo answered. He picked up the remote with one hand and smoked with the other. “What do you like to watch?”

She smiled, the conversation similar to the one her and Nic had shared.

“Comedies mostly, but I’m open to other stuff too.”

Arlo didn’t hesitate as he clicked the remote a few times, selecting a show to stream and pressing play. Oh, she liked that. Flipping through shows and being too nervous to pick one was so annoying.

It just so happened his choice happened to be one of her favorites, and she grinned as she accepted the joint from Tate again.

A comfortable lightness surrounded her, and she snuggled deeper into the blanket.

When the two alphas were distracted by the show, she sank her nose into the material and inhaled.

The alphas’ scents had ingrained themselves into the blanket. She couldn’t pick one out from the other, but all she knew was that she loved it.

They were none the wiser as she tuned into the show. She declined the joint when they tried to pass it to her again, comfortable with the buzzing relaxation of the high.

It was like the stress melted out of her shoulders, and she focused on the television show with glee.

It had been so long since she’d just… existed. Since she’d sat in front of the television with no obligations, no anxiety that someone was going to come around the corner and scold her for wasting time.

Wendy ground her teeth together as her throat tightened with the sting of threatening tears.

There was nothing wrong with sitting around and just existing. No matter how many times she’d been told differently. She didn’t have to have a purpose every single second of every single day. She didn’t have to sit with perfect posture and always smile and—

“Sit up straighter, will you? This is a theater, not a hockey game.” Joshua’s voice was harsh, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned over. His grip was tight on her knee, and Wendy swallowed the argument on the tip of her tongue. Rolling her shoulders, she shifted forward so her back barely touched the seat behind her.

Wendy had been the one to request an outing, a date, like she thought normal omegas went on. At the time, she’d swallowed the bile of regret that rose when Josh had been the one to volunteer. But now, it returned with a burn, and she swallowed against it, lest she embarrass her alpha further.

Josh’s touch eased before he pulled away altogether. It no longer left butterflies in her stomach. Instead, she felt dread every time he touched her. She’d rather not have any of their touches at all if it was going to be paired with ever-negative remarks.

Wendy.

“Wendy?” the voice repeated.

She blinked, the memory vanishing as she found two wide, worried gazes aimed in her direction.

“Are you okay?” Arlo asked.