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I sigh, resisting the strong urge to pull away from his touch.
“I know.”
But he did, and I need to get away before I lose my temper any further. I can feel his guilt through the pack bonds, which makes me feel even worse. He shouldn’t feel guilty for identifying the truth.
“I’m going to bed early,” I say at last, plucking his hand from my wrist. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
I walk away, trying to ignore what he said, but the words echo around inside my head all night long.
TWELVE
—
R I L E Y
I havetwo word processor windows open on my laptop, and I mindlessly toggle between them. The first window holds the latest outline for one of my biggest clients, something about an Omega and an Alpha stuck together during a snowstorm. The second window just has a few ideas of my own, nothing really structured. I have to push myself to continue writing it. I’ve never given my own writing much thought until this week, but somehow now feels like the perfect time to start.
I still have the rent to take care of at my old apartment for now, but without having to pay for extra utilities like internet or any of the groceries, my bills are at an all time low.
Of course, free internet and food doesn’t sit well with me. I have money saved up, and I have my contracts set up so I’m always drawing some sort of paycheck every week. I really should be making a contribution while I’m here, whether it’s in rent, utilities, or even in food. I can’t imagine the cost of maintaining a place like this, but if I can pay enough for my own usage, I’ll feel better.
Frustrated, I close my laptop, effectively ignoring both documents. Agitated and tired of being in the bedroom, I go downstairs, where I find Fox sitting in the living room, his long legs sprawled across the sofa. A nature documentary plays on the television, and Fox looks as chill as he could possibly be.
“Can I join you?” I ask, unsure whether he would be okay with me hanging around. He stretches his arms and legs and growls, like a lion waking up from a nap. With his long blond hair that sweeps his shoulders and a consistent predatory expression, he even looks a little like one.
“Sure, sugar,” he says, sitting up so there’s room for me on the couch. “I’m just watchingPlanet Earth. At least I think it’sPlanet Earth. It’s something with a British narrator and animals.”
“I think that’s most wildlife documentaries,” I say, taking my place on the soft leather couch. I want to sit closer to him, to tuck my body into his, but I ignore the instinct. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he says with hesitation, like I’m about to ask him for his bank account or some nuclear codes. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, bobbing my head. “It’s just that I’m planning out my contracts for the month, and I wanted to budget out how much I need to put aside for rent.”
He blinks at me, long lashes obscuring his gorgeous silver eyes. “Rent?”
“Yeah. I can’t just stay here for free. You four are already doing so much.”
I expect him to go all protective Alpha on me, as if I’m insulting his innate need to provide for me. Instead, he snorts, letting his head fall back on the couch. “Sugar, we don’t pay rent here.”
“Wait, what? You don’t?”
“Nope. This place is paid off completely. No mortgage, nothing.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What about amenities, or electricity? Internet? Heat?”
“Honestly, Miles handles all that, but Thane pays for it. I mean, I can afford it, and I throw money at him occasionally, but Thane likes to feel like he’s providing for us.”
And there’s the whole ‘Alpha as provider’ attitude represented, even in a house of four of them, the one who identifies as the most Alpha will actively try to provide for and protect all the others.
“How do I contribute to the house then? I don’t want to be a freeloader.”
He shrugs at me. “We all pay for our own expenses. Cell phones. Clothing. Custom protein shakes. That kind of thing. You can give money to Thane for groceries, but don’t you dare go shopping without him. He’s so picky about the food he brings into the house.”
He leans in conspiratorially. “One time, I brought in a bag of Twizzlers. I thought he was going to lose his damn mind. And if you really want to make him crazy, substitute all the butter in the house with margarine. I almost got kicked out of the house for that one.”
I crack up laughing, and Fox’s expression fills with satisfaction at having amused me. “All right, just promise me if money is needed, you’ll ask for it.”
“Nope. It won’t be me. It’ll be Miles. But I promise on his behalf. In fact, anything you want to ask of Miles, I’ll agree to on his behalf.” He winks at me.
