Page 58 of All Packed Up

Once they had everything marked down on a paper list—that Arlo made sure to verify ownership of before leaving the house—they walked out the front door to—

Arlo’s brain stopped processing as he bumped into Griffith’s back. He mumbled an apology and managed to get his feet working again.

“Watch your step,” Tate drawled from the downward dog position.

Griffith cleared his throat and beelined off the porch with his cheeks aflame, but Arlo took his time, even pausing by the porch steps.

“Getting some good stretches in?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the fact he was staring at Tate’s ass. He didn’t want to make Wendy uncomfortable, so he averted his gaze, only to find hers and a knowing smirk on her lips. Arlo rolled his eyes at her.

The truck started in the background, and he knew Griffith was waiting.

“Tate’s kicking my ass,” Wendy cried. “If I have to do another plank, I’m gonna die.”

“Oh.” Arlo winced in sympathy. “His planks suck.” But at least she got to stare at Tate while she suffered.

“Try not to have too much fun, you two. I’m going to go spend Tate’s money,” he teased.

“Mine?” Tate grouched, widening his legs so he could glare at Arlo. “What happened to yours?”

Arlo ignored him with a chuckle and turned, stepping off the porch to the little walkway below.

“You’ll thank me later,” he called over his shoulder. Tate didn’t know they were getting a bed too.

And then maybe Tate would thank him by wearing those leggings once more.

“That slut.” Arlo huffed with a chuckle as he got into the truck.

It was already warming from the heat, and Arlo rubbed his hands together in front of the heater.

“What?” Griffith snapped, brows furrowed, and Arlo jerked at the harsh tone in his voice before he realized why the alpha was suddenly pissed.

“No, no. I was talking about Tate,” Arlo swore. “Not Wendy.”

“Do explain,” Griffith drawled.

“Tate only wears leggings when he wants to be watched. He’s putting on a show for Wendy. Clearly. Did you see his ass in those?”

“Who said I was looking at all?” he challenged.

“Are you trying to tell me you weren’t staring longingly at Nic all morning? I hope you know you’re into dudes, dude.” He suspected there was a tangled past there, but he wasn’t one to pry. Keeping it light was his thing.

Griffith groaned and threw the truck in reverse. “Is it that transparent?”

“Do you want the truth, or do you want to feel better?” Arlo challenged.

Okay, so sometimes he was a little blunt too.

“Well, shit. Does Nic know this as well?”

“Don’t know, you’ll have to ask him.” It wasn’t Arlo’s place to mention that Nic had been staring at him just as consistently.

“Yeah, right.” Griffith cleared his throat and let the silence lie.

The long drive leading back out to the main road looked a lot less sketchy in the daylight. By the time they reached the gate, Arlo had his belt undone and got out to do the unlocking and relocking thing while Grif pulled the truck forward.

“I’m bi, not gay, so there’s that.”

“Cool. You won’t find any judgment from me or Tate.”