Page 36 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
“Guys, these are the Elite Pack wolves,” Mia says. “Make them welcome.” She perches on the armrest of a sofa and gestures at the mountain of cookies and cups of steaming black coffee in the middle of the table. “Help yourselves, there’s plenty, and get comfy.”
Katie and her mates take a sofa and get cozy. Clayton goes behind the bar and starts inspecting the bottles of liquor. A couple of girls with remarkably straight hair are occupying one sofa, one lying with her feet on the other’s lap; a big guy scrolls through his phone on another. A lanky guy with ginger hair, a girl with braids, and a girl dressed all in black have commandeered a corner sofa. The only spare seat is next to the cute boy with the adorable overbite. A gulp and I sit.
“Hey, I’m Mason,” he says, giving me a smile.
“Hi, I’m Max.”
“What do you think of the Rocky Pack so far?”
I pause for too long.
“Seems…nice. A lot of dead animals.”
“Are you talking about the trophies or our parents?”
Okay, he’s funny too.
“Don’t worry,” he continues, smirking. “It’s not all dinner with the parents. Sometimes we actually have fun, too.”
“Oh good.” I rub the back of my neck.
Mason is… Mason is cute—and friendly. And from the way his knee is already nudging against mine, he’s pretty forward, too.
“Right,” Mia says, jumping up and clapping her hands. “The adults should be in bed by now. Shall we show these wolves what the Rocky Pack is really about?”
Okay, I thought Mia was like the ultimate Girl Scout, a princess as pack devoted as Jasper. Who is this?
The girl with braids jumps up and heads to the jukebox, and to my surprise, she unplugs it. The bigger guy looks up and starts tapping about on his phone. In a second, music is pumping from a Bluetooth speaker somewhere behind the bar.
“Mugs!” Mia commands, and the Rocky Pack wolves move their coffee mugs to the central table. With a dramatic flourish, like she’s displaying a prize on a game show, Mia produces a polished metal hip flask and proceeds to pour something into the coffee. “What?” she says in response to our confused expressions. “It’s not all official welcomes and diplomatic dinners. Oh Clayton.”
He looks up from examining the label on a bottle half filled with an amber liquid.
“Daddy checks the levels on those,” Mia says, then smiles at me. “I have a human contact in town who helps me out.”
Mia is quickly turning out to be quite a surprise. And I’m not sure if this fun side to her makes her less of a threat or more.
Mason grabs his spiked mug of coffee and sits back on the couch.
“How do you like it here now?” he asks, and I roll my eyes.
An hour later, we’re jumping on the sofas singing along to Olivia Rodrigo at the top of our lungs. I hate to say that I’m sort of proud of being off book for “good 4 u,” and Mason watches smiling and clapping as I spit those lyrics like I’m starring in a music video.
“Bravo,” he cheers when I poutily deliver the final lyrics. “That was amazing.”
He grabs my hand to help me down off the sofa, and I fall back into it.
“This is the best gingerbread I’ve ever had,” I say, grabbing a piece and shoving it in my mouth.
Mason flops down next to me and I realize I’m a little light-headed. Maybe it’s the altitude, maybe it’s whatever Mia poured into my drink, or maybe it’s that I’m sitting next to a cute boy, our arms pressed up against each other. And for about thirty minutes I actually haven’t thought about Jasper.
Across the room, Mia and Clayton are leaning on the bar having an animated conversation. Katie, Todd, and Simon are standing on the sofa opposite us, dancing in this sort of awkward but sort of natural three-person configuration. Some of the Rocky Pack wolves are also dancing, while the two girls with straight hair play pool.
“So, Mason, are you excited for the blood moon?”
“Did you really just ask that?” he responds, laughing.
“I mean it’s a sacred event, right?” Am I slurring?
