Page 109 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

I blink at him over his fingers.

Giggles peel from Callie’s lips as she leans into Dash’s shoulder, his hand settling at the back of her chair while she tries to hide her face. Idris looks at me with the patient severity of an Alpha who thinks I have proved his point about supervision, but his thumb moves once at the back of my neck when I finally swallow.

“The grapes were suspicious,” I say, clearer this time. “You said we needed fruit for lunches and then bought the fruit nobody asked for.” I pick up a piece of apple from the containerIdris opened and hold it up as evidence. “This is why Idris should come grocery shopping. He understands categories.”

Sloane’s purr moves low across the table, warm enough that Callie’s smile slips before she can hide it. “I’m taking you next time, Theo. We’ll buy every fruit in the store and make Callie defend her choices.”

“You arenothelping,” Callie says, though she is still smiling when Idris presses a slice of apple to her fingers and waits until she takes it.

Mason passes the conference-room glass a few minutes later with the analyst file tucked under his arm. His eyes flick once toward the room, catching on Callie between Idris and Dash, my own self tucked between Idris and Sloane, and the way Sloane is still watching Callie like the hallway kiss never fully ended. Then he keeps walking without slowing.

Her smile changes again, quieting around the edges until it looks less like embarrassment and more like relief. Idris’ hand rests near her bowl, Dash is warm against her other side, and Sloane does not look away from her when she notices him watching. It hurts him a little to see what they had before him, but he does not look away from it anymore.

I continue stuffing my face, Idris gathering the empty containers. Callie looks up and leans back in her chair. “Alpha, I can help.” She reaches for an empty plate but I jump out of my chair and swipe it.

“Pretty Betas get to sit,” I say stupidly before my face warms. Still, I start gathering the napkins, cupcake wrappers, and the little paper cups from the soup. She juts out her bottom lip in an adorable pout that Dash immediately leans over to nibble on. That only makes me smile more. “I like having a job,” I say, reaching for another empty container.Especially when everyone else is still sitting close enough to touch.

Idris steals the paper bag I stuffed the trash in before gesturing me to curl back up against Sloane. I do but not before my gaze falls back onto the table, a mess of cups and phones. There’s just one thing missing.

Slowly, I pull out my phone, Sloane sitting up to curl over my shoulder. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

I bend over a little more, hiding my screen as I slowly add everyone’s names.

Callie. Sloane. Idris. Dash. Me.

For the group name, I only type Pack.

Then I send the first message before I can lose my nerve.

Theo: Lunch was good.

All four phones buzz almost together.

Dash picks his up first. He reads the screen, and his eyes come back to me with something guarded moving behind them. “Why am I in this?”

“Because you’re pack,” I say, and my voice comes out too full because I forgot to swallow the last bite of cupcake.

Sloane’s hand covers my mouth again, warmer this time. His eyes are wet at the edges, but his voice stays steady. “Chew first, sweetheart. Life-changing declarations after.”

Callie laughs into Idris’ shoulder, and Idris’ mouth softens while he takes the cupcake wrapper from my hand. Dash keeps looking at the phone for another second before he sets it down and turns his wrist beneath Callie’s fingers when she reaches for him.

I chew before saying it again, because the first time was muffled and because Dash deserves the whole sentence. “You’re pack.”

I want to say more. Something about how he makes Callie softer, how he belongs because she reaches for him without thinking now, how the rest of us have already started makingroom. The words crowd together on my tongue until none of them will move.

Sloane feels me go still. His hand settles between my shoulders without pushing. “You got the important part out, sweetheart.”

I nod and look back at my phone instead. Typing is easier when my mouth decides it’s finished.

Dash looks at Sloane, then at Callie, then at the screen where all five names sit in the same place. When he types, he does it slowly.

Dash: I agree. We should do this again.

Callie reads it and presses her lips together, but she is smiling when she answers.

Callie: Maybe next week. I don’t have classes one of those afternoons.

Idris looks at the chat, then at the table, then at Callie’s half-finished soup. His reply arrives a moment later.