“Thanks for waiting,” he says, and Sloane leans in.
“You smell like waffles,” she says.
His dark brows furrow. “I’m a Beta. What do you mean?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have a scent, maybe not one that perfumes. You must smell likewaffles from working in the kitchen. I like it,” she says, and I note she gets even closer to the Beta.
Why do I feel slightly jealous? And why am I not sure who I’m jealous of? Because to be quite frank, I’d like to sit between both of them.
Christ, maybe I need to go home and jerk off to get some of this tension out.
They are my friends, not my conquests like Sloane so casually put it.
“Oh.” Ethan’s cheeks heat, and Sloane touches his arm.
I’ve hardly spent time with Sloane, but it's clear physical touch is casual and yet needed for her.
“How was your shift?” she asks.
“Same shit, different day. My foster dad owns the place. All of my foster siblings and I work here. Well, minus a few,” he says with a shrug.
“That’s sweet. I’d love to meet him sometime,” Sloane says.
“Yeah, sure. So the Humane Society event?” Ethan says, changing the subject.
“Right, well, you already saw the costume, but I was thinking maybe you need a signature song and dance.”
“A dance?” I say, covering my mouth with laughter.
“Oh, you won’t be laughing when Finnegan the Fox is trending and you’re not, Mr. Connery,” Sloane says.
Why does she have to be refreshing and call me out on my shit?
“I can definitely do that. I’m off tomorrow, if you want to help. If not, I can totally send you clips or something,” Ethan says.
“I wish I could, but the antichrist is in town,” Sloane replies.
“The antichrist?” I question.
“Yeah, my grandmother.”
Ethan and I both laugh, and Sloane takes a sip of her drink.
“She’s that bad?” I ask.
“Yeah, she’s that bad. She came to town early, and I only saw her for all of about five minutes when I was asked why I don’t have a pack or why I’m not pregnant yet.”
It’s one of those times I should bite my tongue, but per usual, I don’t, the words spilling off my stupid tongue.
“Well, why don’t you?”
Sloane and Ethan both cut me a glare so severe that if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot.
“I didn’t mean that to be rude. I’m just genuinely so confused as to why you’re single. Are you hoping to find your scent match or something?”
Ethan still looks like he wants to punch me in the arm, but Sloane softens and sighs.
“I may be a hopeless romantic, and despite what’s happened on the team for Charlotte and Owen, I know how rare scent matches are. I’m not going to put my life on pause for a three percent chance in finding that perfect pheromone match. But I am looking for the perfect packfor me, and I have a lot of stipulations. One being I don’t want to join a pre-established pack.”
