Page 73 of Pack End Game

The new place is ours on paper, and we've managed to jumpstart some renovations to help turn the Franklin Senior Living Center into our future home, but it isn't truly home until we get the zoning fixed. The last thing we need is for the pack to get in trouble for illegally occupying a commercial building without a license to operate the residential spaces.

I'm sure the news would have a field day with that. We'd have to give Mia's twin brother an exclusive interview and hope he could help with efficient damage control.

None of us would want to be under a microscope like that when all we want is to finish up our season and get some time to bond as a pack in peace.

So we're in limbo.

Which would be easier to deal with if Mia seemed anything close to okay.

She hasn't been okay for days. Not since Spencer signed on the dotted line, officially making the building of her dreams our property.

I may not know her as well yet as I someday hope to, but I know enough to notice the small changes in her. The hesitation to say goodbye when we've dropped her off at her office before heading to the stadium for practice the past few days. Her extra-tight grip as she cuddles close at bedtime, seeking an extra layer of comfort that she didn't seem to need before.

She's been restless in her sleep, too. Waking one or two of us up occasionally. Last night, Spencer and I looked at each other from opposite sides of the bed, sharing the same worried look.

We're all worried about her.

Even Freddie has been gentler with her than usual. More careful in his good-natured teasing.

I glance across the aisle to where Freddie is asleep with his head cushioned by a hoodie and leaning against the window. Simon's head rests on the otherwise empty seat beside him. He swore he wasn't tired when we were climbing on the bus, but then quickly stole my hoodie to use as a pillow and passed out ten minutes later.

Spencer is beside me, his elbow propped up against the window so he can rest his head on his hand. His other hand holds a tablet, and he's staring down at game footage as if he hasn't already memorized all of our opponents' weaknesses.

I know better.

He might be staring down at the game footage, but his mind is a million miles away.

Spencer has made a career out of being the calmest guy in any room. Steady. Controlled. Team captain in every possible way. Most people think nothing ever rattles him.

But he's holding himself too still.

That's his tell.

He's usually always slightly in motion, his way of keeping his eyes out at all times. Making sure he misses nothing. Now, though, he just stares down at that tablet. Completely lost to the rest of the world.

I nudge him with my elbow, and he glances over at me with a small, distracted smile.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey." I nod my head at the tablet. "You feel good about facing them?"

"Of course."

We're heavily favored to win today's game. There's already been talk from the coaches about trying to give the second-string quarterback some game time today.

Spencer angles in his seat to face me more, shutting off the screen on the tablet. "You get any sleep last night?"

"Some." It was hard to fall back asleep with Mia sleeping so restlessly beside me.

The shadows under his eyes tell the same story. He still shoots me a disappointed look.

I shrug. "I slept enough to do my job on the field today."

"You know that's not what I'm worried about."

"I know."

And I really do. He cares more about my well-being than the game, at the end of the day.