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My heart is still thumping uncomfortably in my chest as I head to the gym. Exercising might do a better job of getting my mind off my brother’s troubles and my worry over him than booze—though, I did consider it. It has to be cocktail time somewhere in the world, right?
Anyway, I’m in a rush because I’m kind of late for my Bodypump class, taught by a certain dark and handsome alpha whose name starts with a Z. You know the one.
I find Grey in the class, too, and he throws me a wink the moment I enter. I do my best not to look at my two mates—Zayne strutting about, looking yummy as hell, and Grey so focused on the exercises, all those beautiful muscles rippling and flexing—and manage to get through the class without staining my panties.
Pantyliners really are the shit, you know, for those days—every day—when your mates make you wet, and there is no opportunity to roll about with them in the sheets and find release.
After class, I share a quick kiss with Grey, while Zayne is waylaid by a student who wants to ask about a leg injury he has. Grey and I walk out of the room together, and I freeze.
Because Coco and June are there, my little magpies, and the moment they see us, they wave madly.
Okay, I can still save this—save our secret. I really am not ready to tell them about the pack yet, especially since we haven’t discussed telling people about it yet.
But then a familiar tall, blond alpha steps in my way.
“So, Gigi…” Zach says, a lazy smirk on his face. “I hear you’re in my dad’s pack now?”
“Gigi!” Coco shrieks, hands on her cheeks. “You didn’t! Oh my God, you sneaky beta.”
“You didn’t tell us!” June adds, equally shrieky. “Us, your best friends! How could you do this to us? We could have had so much fun gossiping! You have no heart!”
Oh, crap…
38
ZAYNE
My son spilled the beans about our pack, the little shit, and Gigi’s girlfriends all but dragged her away from us to talk. She resisted, though, and they had to leave empty-handed, but obviously the battle is already lost. The cat is out of the bag.
Not that I mind. For me, this pack is a done deed. It’s awesome, and I want to shout it from the rooftops. I know we’re taking it slow and waiting to see how it works out, but it will. I feel it in my bones. I know it in my heart.
My pack.
But anyway, thing is… I’d better invite Zach and my ex over some time, to meet the pack.
I grin, as it often happens nowadays. My pack. I like repeating it in my mind. Can’t stop saying it. And sometimes I lose the thread of the class I’m teaching when Gigi bends over, or Ronin flexes, when Grey does a push-up or when Casey performs a Down Dog.
I’m learning to live with it and taken to wearing loose pants at the gym, to hide the almost permanent hard state of my dick.
It’s a hard—so hard, pun intended—price to pay.
Maybe Zach spilling the beans is for the best. Funny thing is, I hadn’t even told him about it. He figured it out all on his own. Little fucker has brains. Didn’t get that from me, that’s for sure. Took me forever to crystalize in my mind what I wanted, and it wasn’t until I met Gigi and these hot guys that I realized it.
And I feel like it’s good if we all meet. Clear the air. I have a feeling that Gigi may not be comfortable with the Other Woman out there.
Even if Dawn hasn’t been the Other Woman in fucking ages.
And then we should also invite the St. Laurent pack and Sawyer to dinner. Gigi mentioned it and she’s right. Not only because they are her friends, but because they rushed to Grey’s and Casey’s rescue, no questions asked. For that I’ll be eternally grateful.
Besides, as I said before, they’re my model pack. I need to take more notes on their dynamics. I’m new to pack life. I still have a lot to learn.
So that’s what’s happening now. We’re expecting my ex, Dawn, and Zach for dinner at my place—our place now—and Casey has cooked up a storm in the kitchen. The apartment smells divine, but not nearly as amazing as my mates.
Now he’s disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower, we’re still waiting for Grey and Ronin to come back from Ink and Shadows, and I’m stalking Gigi around the kitchen island.
What can I say, they bring out all those ancient predator instincts in me.
