“I’ll fire up the pizza oven,” Ren chirps, heading outside.
My jaw drops as I see what stretches across the left wall. “You have four fridges?”
They aren’t standard size either. They’re the biggest refrigerators I’ve ever seen.
“We eat a lot,” Cole replies matter-of-factly. “But one is just for drinks, and Damon gets his own.”
“Because he gets so hangry,” Laz chips in. “You don’t want to be standing in the way of him and his snacks if you want to keepyour gonads.” He shudders then rolls his sleeves up. “I’ll start on the dough.”
“I can help?” I offer.
“Go sit outside in the sun, honeybee,” Laz’s lips quirk. “Your hands have already worked hard enough.”
Cole splutters, his eyeballs almost popping out of their sockets.
“Gaming!” Laz explains. “We were just at the arcade. Get your head out of the gutter, perv!”
Cole opens the drinks fridge, blasting us with cool air. “What would you like, Faye? You can help yourself to anything when you’re here.”
They have almost everything—still and sparkling water, tons of different fruit juices, practically every soda as well as a row of energy drinks and premade protein shakes.
“Just a lemonade,” I reply. “If you have any?”
“Ice?”
“Please.”
I feel like I’m being waited on in a restaurant. Is it normal for alphas to be this attentive?
“I’m not a great cook.” Laz sprinkles flour onto the counter. “But pizza dough is one of the few things I kick ass at.”
Cole’s corded shoulders visibly tense. “Could you at least try not to not get flour everywhere?”
Laz scoops up a pinch of flour then blows a kiss in my direction. “I’ll try.”
Cole grits his teeth. Before he loses his shit, I smile up at him. “Can I see your room, Cole?”
“My room?”
“I mean, you don’t have to,” I blurt. “I just thought it’d be nice to get to know you better.”
“Of course, I’ll show you.” He grins and reaches for my hand, seeming to instantly forget about Laz who is getting enough flour everywhere to make snow angels. “Follow me.”
On the way upstairs, I pause to admire some paintings on the wall. There are lots of different styles including a funny cartoon of what looks like Cole and Laz high-fiving on a raft while tents burn in the background.
“That’s a Laz original,” Cole says. “From our time in camp.”
“The pack finding experience?”
He chuckles. “He told you about that, huh?”
“Only that you met there.”
“Well, the picture is pretty accurate.” Bemusement shines in his silver eyes. “But don’t worry, we made sure the tents were empty when we started the bonfire. Trust me when I say those alphas deserved it. Some of the hazing that goes on at those camps makes SVU sports teams look tame.”
On the landing, Cole motions to different doors. “Ren’s room is straight ahead. Laz’s is at the end of the hall, and this is mine.” He pushes the door open. “I’m sorry if it’s a bit of a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
Mess? It looks like it belongs in a showroom. It’s not as big as my room in Stella House, but he has an en suite, and it’s incredibly neat. There’s an enormous bookcase on one wall with lots of heavy-bound books next to a desk with neatly piled papers and a laptop. His bed is pristinely made with sharply tucked corners. Above it, there’s a crimson banner emblazoned with a wolf’s head and, “Silverwood Pack” written underneath. Aside from that, there’s little else in the room, lacking any real personal touches.
