Page 61 of Pack End Game

I grimace. "She'd hate that."

He doesn't argue.

There are very few omegas who manage to feel comfortable spending their heat at an omega center. As comfortable as the facilities usually are, those places are an absolute last resort.

"Don't give up hope yet." Spencer turns toward me, so I do the same. He reaches out to stroke my cheek, and I lean into the touch. "Fate made sure we didn't miss out on the omega that's meant to be ours. Something in my gut tells me the perfect home is just around the corner."

"I hope you're right."

"No matter what happens, we're all in this together," he reassures me.

That's been true since the start for Spencer, Freddie, and me. Now I have to trust that Mia is committed to being in this with us, too.

"I'm going to head back in and make sure Freddie hasn't derailed the dinner plans in my absence," Spencer says, giving my hand one last squeeze. "Take all the time you need, but we'll be waiting for you to rejoin us when you're ready."

"Thank you."

I open my arms to him, suddenly desperate for a hug from the alpha. He obliges, stepping forward and wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulder while mine snake around his waist. Our pack is lucky to have each other, and we're lucky to have Spencer be the one who holds us all down when things get hard.

Before pulling away, Spencer pauses to kiss me.

I love him so much.

I might be a pleasure dom and daddy for Mia, but I still melt for the head of my pack.

"This was everything I needed," I tell Spencer, finally feeling like my lungs can get enough air. "Let's both go back upstairs. I'll try to distract Freddie by asking him which tossed salad jokes I missed."

Spencer throws his head back with a laugh. "He'll love that."

He puts his arm around my shoulder, and we walk together toward the door. Moments like this remind me exactly how lucky I am.

Time to get focused on tomorrow's game. After we win, I'm thinking crab legs sound like the perfect Friday night dinner.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mia

Football players are so much bigger up close than I realized.

Way more intimidating.

Last night, I watched the Sloths take down the Crabs from a front row seat courtesy of my alphas. Freddie offered me a chance to watch the game, too, but his plan involved holding hands with Simon the Sloth for the entire game. Something I didn't agree to for many reasons.

Imagine what the internet would say about that.

The team's win was impressive, beating their rivals by a solid three touchdowns. Somehow, in all the excitement of the win, I forgot to prepare myself for the reality of meeting the whole team face-to-face.

There are arms in this restaurant so muscular that they look bigger than my whole body. It would only take one of these guys deciding I'm not good enough for their team captain and tight end, and I could wind up squashed like a slug on the floor of this nice restaurant.

And that would be a real shame, because the red-orange and cream tiles in here are beautiful, and I wouldn't be surprised if someone told me they were imported directly from Italy.

Also, I think Spencer, Zak, and Freddie would miss me.

That's a good enough reason to avoid winding up splattered across the floor like spaghetti sauce.

Spencer's hand lands on my lower back like he can sense the panic trying to claw its way up my throat. Zak presses close on my other side, the two of them offering me safety and reassurance. Freddie walks a few steps ahead, strolling in like he owns the place.

He glances back at me and pauses until I'm close enough for him to whisper, "If anyone here bothers you, I'll throw garlic bread at them for you."