Pack Deception: Part Two, page 9
Pink tinges Maverick’s cheeks which immediately piques my interest. “We, uh, well, we usually hop online while we eat.”
Hudson slaps Maverick on the back, almost making him drop his plate. It earns him a scowl, but Hudson just laughs. “Don’t mind him. He’s always been a little embarrassed of his hobby. He’s a bit of a super nerd.” Hudson leans in to whisper that last part like it’s top-secret information, waggling his eyebrows. Which, I guess it is because I would not guess Maverick would be the one to be called nerdy from this pack. Mason maybe. Brooklyn, definitely. Maverick…
“I am not a nerd,” he grumbles, shoulder-checking Hudson as he passes. He gently grabs my hand as he passes and leads us to his room. As soon as we get to his room, I watch as they move in synchronized ease with one another. Clearly, they’ve done this a thousand times before. Hudson walks to the window and draws the blinds while Maverick sets his plate down on the side table by the bed and pats it for me to sit on the bed. Then he walks to his closet and pulls out a second chair to match the one already at what I’m sure is his gaming station in the corner. It’s essentially just three of the largest computer monitors I’ve seen. When he lifts it up to carry it over to set it next to the other, the muscles in his arms tense and flex, drawing my gaze. Drool starts to build in my mouth, so I clear my throat and look away.
Dinner first, Summer, I scold myself.
Maybe they could be dinner, the devil on my other shoulder cackles. I ignore both sides of my inner monologue and opt for a bite of pizza instead. When I look back up, Hudson has a headset in his ears and is handing a second one to Maverick. It’s wireless, so he grabs it and walks back over to me. He leans down to give me a quick kiss that catches me off guard because I’m currently chewing my dinner and grabs his own plate. “We only have two chairs and headsets, sweets. Nobody else likes to play with us, so we’ve never needed another one. I’m sorry.” The chagrined half-smile he gives me really does look remorseful, so I let him off the hook.
With a shrug, I say, “It’s okay. I’ve never really been much of a gamer. But I like watching. Just do your thing.”
Two hours later, I regret telling them I liked to watch. The first thirty minutes really were interesting. Comical, really, the way they’d yell at the other people in their headsets. And each other. They obviously take it very seriously, and tomorrow, I’ll be sure to tell Hudson he can’t call Maverick a super nerd like he’s above him because he is just as bad.
My eyes are starting to feel heavy, and they show no signs of stopping, so I nudge my way under Maverick’s covers to get comfortable and pull out my phone. I may as well get a little reading in.
I open the library app on my phone, where I’ve been reading ebooks for free–since coming to Chicago and not being able to afford to splurge on the physical copies–and start reading.
Ten
Summer
“That must be Mason. He’s home really late.” I hear Hudson whisper near me. But I’m so warm and cozy, eyes still so heavy, that I don’t even attempt to get up and join the conversation.
“He did say he was going to be working late,” Maverick whispers back, but he sounds farther away. A second later, a door shuts, and then his voice is much closer. “He’s been finding more work closer to the house lately. Not as many long trips for landscape shots.”
“Yeah, I wonder why that is.” Hudson’s low voice sounds scolding, almost accusatory.
“Butt-out.”
“No. Fix your shit, Mav. I’m serious,” Hudson growls, and then I hear the quiet sound of footsteps on the carpet before a second door closes. It’s quiet in the room for so long that I think maybe both of them left. But I still can’t bring myself to get up or open my eyes.
I wonder what Hudson was talking about. Why does it sound like he blames Maverick for Mason staying close to home?
A sigh comes from down by the end of the bed that almost startles me into actually opening my eyes. At least I know Maverick is still in the room. There’s shuffling, the sound of drawers opening and closing, and then he’s out the door, too.
Part of me is ready to snuggle deeper under the duvet, but then my bladder tells me that isn’t going to happen. With a groan and an immense amount of effort, I throw the covers back and crawl out of their warm embrace. Bleary-eyed, I amble down the hall to the bathroom only to hear the water running. Maverick must have come to take a shower. Part of me wants to just walk in there and use the bathroom—sure he wouldn’t mind—but the other, louder part of me is too embarrassed. So I walk downstairs to use the other bathroom.
Mercifully, it’s empty. I relieve myself quickly and am about to head back upstairs when I hear rustling coming from the kitchen.
Mason is leaning over the island, pizza in one hand and scrolling on his phone in the other. I must make a noise because as soon as I’m in the living room, his head jerks up, and a brilliant smile lights up his face. The smile I return is effortless.
Everything about Mason puts me at ease and makes me feel like coming home after a long day.
Walking up to him and wrapping my arms around him is natural. As easy as breathing. He returns my hug for a second and then surprises me by lifting me by my hips and planting me on the island countertop. The squeak that comes out of me is embarrassing, but he ignores it.
The sweetheart.
Despite the late hour and him having worked all day, he doesn’t look the least bit tired as he stares adoringly at me. I bring a hand up to his cheek, and my thumb traces lines along his sharp cheekbone and under his eye where there should be dark circles but are none.
“You’re so handsome,” I whisper, heat tinging my cheeks as his summer rain and freshly mowed grass scent grows more pronounced at my words. A rumble travels through his chest. Not a growl since only alphas and omegas have true growls, but it gets the point across well enough. Well, enough that my legs spread automatically.
He steps between them, and I hook my ankles around his back, pulling him even closer.
“I missed you.” His voice is deep and gravelly in a way that sends shivers down my spine. Hands run up and down my sides in gentle strokes while he stares into my eyes, hunger shining in his.
My body leans into his, and so slowly I want to scream, he bends down to kiss me. His lips on mine are unhurried and so freaking soft. Butterflies are bouncing around violently in my stomach at the tender way he’s kissing me, holding me; I’m almost vibrating with them. His tongue darts out to my lips, and I open for him. So there we stand–or sit, in my case–in the middle of the kitchen, making out like it’s just him and me in the house. And in this moment, it feels like it is.
But then a throat clears from across the living room, near the stairs. Mason and I don’t jump apart from each other like we’ve just been caught doing something we shouldn’t. We don’t stop kissing right away, either. Somehow, it would feel unfinished.
He kisses me once more in a long, lingering caress before pulling back to turn toward our visitor. Maverick is standing on the stairs, hair wet and only in a pair of basketball shorts. If Mason’s eyes were hungry staring at me, Maverick looks ravenous at the both of us.
To my utter mortification though, Maverick was not the one who cleared his throat to stop us because Houston is standing in the living room, back ramrod straight with his hands folded behind it and his eyes staring straight ahead, not looking at us.
“Apologies, ma’am. I was just coming to make sure you wanted to leave at the same time tomorrow,” he says, when he feels our attention on him.
“Oh–” My voice is so husky I have to stop, swallow, and clear it before I continue. “Yes. Same time is fine. Thank you.”
He nods, not turning our way, before walking toward the door that leads to the basement and their rooms.
There is an awkward silence while Mason and Maverick stare at each other. The tension practically crackles in the air between them. And not a good kind, either. Part of me wants to run to my nest and hide from what seems like a brewing fight. The other part is too scared to move in case it triggers it while I’m still in the room.
A few tense moments later, Mason breaks eye contact first to look back at me. My own eyes are still darting between the two of them worriedly. “Come to my room?” he whispers, tucking a finger under my chin and pulling my face up to look at him. He’s smiling at me, but it’s not the soft, genuine one he gave me when I first walked into the kitchen. This one is tighter, more closed off. My answering nod is wary.
Maverick’s sigh is so loud and resigned that it draws both mine and Mason’s attention. “Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you.” This is clearly directed at Mason, and I see my escape. Blessed relief is just a dart around Mason away. I try to hop off the counter, but he holds me still and raises a brow at me. “Where do you think you’re going? This should be a talk between all of us.”
My skin starts to crawl, anxiety welling up. This is where they blame me for causing a rift between them. Or they start yelling at each other, and I feel like it’s all my fault anyway, even if they aren’t explicitly pointing fingers at me.
Mason must feel the emotions coming off me or smell it in the way my scent sours because he sweeps me off the counter, throwing me over his shoulder. The breath gets knocked out of me for a second. “Hey!” I whisper-shout at him because Brooklyn is still snoozing on the couch. I guess she really can sleep through anything once she’s out.
“Shhh,” he says back mockingly, and pinches my ass.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Seriously, what happened to a good ole fashioned ass slap?
“Just ‘cause my mate’s got a good butt.” Any resistance melts out of me when he calls me his mate. I love hearing it. For some reason, it doesn’t make me feel even the slightest bit of panic, like when Hudson tells me he loves me. However, even that is less scary now that it has had a chance to settle.
Mason walks right by Maverick, who stands there looking a little lost, not sure whether to follow or not.
“Well, are you coming or not, you big lug?” Mason huffs back, not breaking stride. If I thought he was walking toward his own room or even Maverick’s, I was mistaken. He marches right to the end of the hall where my nest is and walks right in, depositing me on the huge, floor-length bed. He pulls his shirt off one-handed, in the way only men can do, and places it over my own head. Immediately, I’m engulfed in his scent. It’s enough to calm my nerves, but he takes it a step further, sniffing all the throw blankets around the bed until I’m bundled in all my mate’s scents.
Maverick is standing in the doorway, watching it all happen. Once Mason is leaned up against the wall with his arm around me, and I’m tucked into his side, Maverick steps in and closes the door behind him.
If there is still tension swirling between the two of them, I don’t feel it anymore. Surrounded by blankets and swimming in my mates’ comforting scents, I’m completely at ease. Almost riding a drug-induced-like high.
“If you’re waiting for me to start this, I’m not going to. I’m not emotionally bailing you out again,” Mason says, and shock breaks through my bubble. He sounds…like an alpha. So firm and dominating. Maverick doesn’t look the least bit surprised by this, so I’m guessing my fun-loving beta has a little bit of a darker side. One I haven’t seen yet but now really want to.
Maverick’s eyes roll back in his head. “Don’t be a brat. I’m trying to find the words.”
“More like the courage,” Mason whispers in my ear. Maverick still hears him but chooses to ignore it.
“I did a lot of things the wrong way. At the time, I thought what I was doing was in your best interest. But it wasn’t my place to make unilateral decisions in our relationship, and I’m sorry.”
I’m…so confused. He seems genuine, but I don’t know what this is about. So, being the absolutely unhinged omega that I am, I tentatively raise my hand.
“Are you raising your hand?” Mason sniggers in my ear, to which he promptly earns an elbow to the gut.
“You don’t need to raise your hand, sweets.” Maverick laughs along with Mason.
I pout at both of them and then ask my question. “Umm. I guess I don’t really know what you’re apologizing for.”
“Yeah, I think I’m a little lost on that one, too. Care to elaborate?” Mason grins at Maverick like he really does know what he’s apologizing for but doesn’t want to let him off so easily. Our alpha takes it in stride.
He kneels down on the bed and crawls until he’s right next to us. He looks at me first and says, “Since we found out that you were our mate, I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions. Starting with not telling you that you were our mate.”
“To be fair, we all messed up there. Not just you,” Mason interjects, dropping the dominant facade to look at me with a touch of regret. I just nod, not wanting to interrupt, and also because I don’t blame them. What if’s aren’t really helpful or productive if any of us want to move forward.
“Regardless,” he says to Mason, and then looks back at me. “When we found out you were our mate–both of ours–we decided to put the physical part of our relationship on hold until you knew. Or until you felt the bond yourself.”
My jaw drops. I knew this was my fault. “Why?” I whisper.
“Omegas can be territorial. I’ve met several who refused to be a part of packs where there were other relationships outside of hers and her alphas.” It’s Mason who answers me.
“We wanted to make sure you knew you had a say. As our fated mate. Neither of us wanted to lose you over it.” Maverick says it, but Mason is nodding along to his words. Both look like they have swallowed something sour.
“And if I didn’t want you to be together?” I ask incredulously. They exchange a sad look, and it’s Mason who answers.
“Then we wouldn’t be. I was still your fated mate, too. So neither of us was going to be alone. We’d have you.” Simple as that, right?
“But you guys love each other! In what world would you have actually been happy with that scenario?” I practically yell at them, completely incensed now.
“It would have been hard, but we could have done it.” Maverick isn’t looking at either of us anymore. Instead, all his attention is on the blanket in his hands as he pulls at the strings at the end.
Yeah, freaking right, they would have been happy.
“You guys are probably the most–” Every part of me wants to yell at them. Call them idiots and scold them for making this so much more difficult than it should have been. But I stop and take a deep, steadying breath.
That won’t be productive, I tell myself internally.
“Okay. Whatever. What’s done is done. So, is that why you guys have this rift between you? It sounds like that was a mutual decision.”
“Well, I guess that is a little my fault. Though Maverick was definitely a jackass.” One pointed stare at Maverick before he continues. “You know I had a pack before this one. One that kicked me to the curb when they met their omega. I guess when we decided to take a break, it brought up a lot of those insecurities, and I started feeling like I wasn’t good enough again.”
Tears well in my eyes at his admission. That’s something we have in common, and it breaks my heart that he ever felt that way with me. Or even Maverick. Mason’s smile is sad as he looks at me, acknowledging a shared insecurity.
“You are and always will be good enough. For us, for this pack, for every happiness. I’ve never met someone more deserving of love than you,” I choke out as a tear falls down my cheek. The sad smile he was wearing turns into a beaming, joyful one as he leans down to kiss me.
“She’s right,” Maverick says, his own voice hoarse. “I’m sorry I ever made you question that. I’m sorry for not calling you when she went into heat. Or after. I knew how you were feeling and was more interested in avoiding any real conversation than making sure you were alright. I was a bastard. It won’t happen again. I promise. Forgive me?”
I smile at Maverick. So proud of him for owning up to his mistakes and sounding truly genuine and remorseful.
“No,” Mason says, and my head shoots around to him as my eyes pop wide open.
Eleven
Summer
“I understand,” Maverick frowns. “I’ll earn your trust back. Whatever it takes.”
Mason hums, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. That dominant look is back in his eyes, and I start to think that he’s teasing Maverick.
“It’s going to be hard work. I’m not sure you’re up for it.” All nonchalance in his voice. “You might even call me a pain in your ass by the time you’ve atoned.” The bass in his voice drops an octave, and a shiver runs through me. Holy hell. A flutter already starts up in my core in anticipation. Maverick isn’t unaffected, either. His eyes have darkened, but there’s also something else…
He looks submissively at Mason. His eyes are slightly downcast, and his neck is bared. My eyes dart between my alpha and beta. The same beta who was just spilling his insecurities is now looking more alpha than anything. Those beautiful hazel eyes I love so much are looking darkly at me. “What do you think, omega? Are you ready to play?”
I nod so fast he chuckles at me. “Lay back then.” I comply immediately, shuffling down so my back is on the mattress.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Take your mate’s clothes off,” Mason growls at Maverick.
Our alpha jumps to do as Mason says. The blankets are ripped away from me so he can grab my pants. They are peeled slowly off my body before he moves to my top. One button after another is undone until it hangs off my shoulders. I’m laying on the covers in essentially just my bra and panties, and I’ve never felt more powerful. The way they’re both looking at me says more than words ever could.
“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful,” Mason hisses through clenched teeth, rubbing himself through his jeans. “Isn’t she?”
