Page 99 of Pack End Game

All around the stadium, there's a buzz of excitement as fans wait for the game to start. Most of the fans are in the Sloths' team colors, but a few pockets of the crowd are dressed in green for tonight's opposing team.

Pre-game music blares until the announcers have a job to do. A giant Sloths logo glows from the big screen attached to the scoreboard.

The whole experience is already magical.

I shift in my seat and smooth my hands over my outfit for the dozenth time. I'm wearing normal clothes today. Cute normal clothes, even. Dark jeans, knee-high boots, and a team jersey with no name on the back because Spencer and Zak argued for so long about which name I should wear that Freddie finally managed to produce a blank jersey for me instead.

No space-themed pajamas pants in sight.

That's called growth.

The seat beside me is still empty. The guys mentioned they reserved it for Trevor, the man who is allegedly their assistant, though none of them could explain to me any of the actual job duties that Trevor is regularly responsible for.

After they explained to me about Trevor's past and his status as a widow, I understood exactly why he's on their payroll. It's kindness. All three of my mates are full of kindness.

I've been growing increasingly excited for Trevor's arrival since I sat down.

I can't believe he really exists until I see him with my own two eyes.

A man with neatly styled hair and a suit that looks out of place for a football game makes his way down the row carrying a stadium pretzel. His expression is focused on his steps, his forehead wrinkled as he stares down, looking like he's regretting being here. He looks like he should be in an office, not at the 50-yard line.

This has to be the guy.

I brighten instantly and wave in greeting as he stops at the empty seat beside me. "Hi! Are you Trevor?"

"That's me." He looks up, tilting his head to study me before he smiles. "And you must be Mia. I recognize you from the dozens of photos Freddie has been sending me."

"Are you serious?" I ask, my mouth dropping open in horror. Why on earth is Freddie blowing up this guy's phone with photos of me?

He nods with grave intention. "I think he's trying to rub it in that I was hired to help the guys find a scent-match, but then they found you all on their own." He dips his head, and his ears turn pink at the tips.

Poor guy.

"I'm sure you did your best."

I pat the seat beside me so he'll sit. I've heard all about the original reason he was hired, and that's part of why I'm so excited to have the chance to meet him. There's something important I need to discuss with him. Something the guys don't need to know about.

"Besides," I say in a casual tone that definitely doesn't make me sound like I'm about to ask a favor even though I absolutely am, "you can think of that assignment as practice for your next task."

His eyes narrow in suspicion. I'm already digging the rolled-up folder out of my tiny purse. The fact that I can't bring a full-sized purse into the stadium totally sucks. This would look way more professional if I didn't have to smooth the folder out before handing it over.

Trevor fumbles to steady the pretzel in his lap and catch the pink folder I'm thrusting at him before either falls.

"What is this?"

"Your new assignment."

Trevor stares down at the folder, then back at me. "I'm sorry... Just to clarify... Are you allowed to assign me work? Spencer never really said either way..."

"Spencer is totally fine with me assigning you work." I nod with the confidence of someone who is blatantly lying for personal gain. I actually have no idea if Spencer would be cool with me utilizing their assistant.

But c'mon, someone ought to give the guy some real work to do.

"He would rather not know any details, though," I continue. "He hates dealing with all of this assistant stuff. He would really rather leave that to me."

Trevor nods like this makes all the sense in the world. "I noticed he didn't quite seem comfortable being my boss. So, I can go through you from now on?"

"Definitely."