He grabs his keys and heads downstairs and I’m left in the living room alone. I turn off what Cole was watching and look around the space. I know they haven’t left for good, that they’re coming back, but there’s still this deep-rooted fear of being alone.
While Mack seemed totally on board about courting me, he hasn’t been around much. Maybe it’s my abandonment issues rearing their ugly head, or maybe it’s my curiosity about my mysterious possible pack mate, but I find myself scooting to the elevator and hitting the button for the level the offices are on.
It’s quiet, until I get down to the end of the hallway and I can hear Mack speaking to someone.
Is there someone in his fucking room? I can only hear Mack’s side of the conversation and realize he must be on a phone call. A normal person would leave and come back later, but my curiosity and maybe a dash of jealousy is eating away at me.
Like the stupid needy Omega I am, I knock on his door. He mumbles something as his feet pad across the door.
“Shiloh?” he says, leaving his room and shutting the door behind him.
Could mean anything, right?
“You’re busy, I’m sorry. I can come back later,” I say, ready to roll away as fast as my little scooter will take me.
“Are you okay? Do you need something?”
“Jonah’s at work, and Cole had a meeting with his lawyer.”
He scratches the back of his neck, and I can’t help but to actually look at him now. He’s wearing a black shirt and green plaid pajama bottoms. His feet are completely bare. Is there a nefarious reason he didn’t want me in his room?
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, as my one working leg takes me back to the elevator as quick as I can.
“Wait. Fuck. Wait,” he says, holding the elevator door open, which makes the thing make an angry beeping noise. “Will you please come back into the hallway so we can talk?”
He said please, so I do as he asks and the elevator door shuts behind me.
“I told you, I’m no good at this shit. I’m…uh I’m working too.”
“You stream, right?” I ask, not totally sure what that means, just a general concept.
“Right, but I don’t think we’ve talked about what that means,” he says, his cheeks flushing and I realize that I make this super hot Alpha nervous.
“Okay, what does it mean?” I ask, pushing my scooter close to the wall, I need to sit down soon.
Mack looks down at my leg and must realize the same thing.
“Do you want to come and see? There’s just one thing, I think it’s better that you make sure you’re out of frame of the camera.”
My eyebrows furrow and I’m brought back to all the events I was actually invited to go to with Smash Knot. Photographers would tell me to get out of the shot. Hell, even Nick would tell me to stand in the corner and wait till they were done, he never wanted me there. I didn’t think Mack would be more of the same bullshit.
“That’s okay, I’ll just work on my project in the living room.”
“I’m fucking this up,” Mack says, putting his hands in his pajama pockets. “I have six million followers and, to be honest, some of them are pretty bat shit insane. The idea of them talking about you or hounding you because you’re associated with me doesn’t sit right.”
I lick my lips and have some understanding. Isn’t my inbox filled with tons of rude and intrusive questions because of my association with Smash Knot?
This is one of those times communication is important.
“I don’t want to be a secret.”
Mack’s arm reaches out, and he grabs my hand. “Secret and private are two different things. Let me get your project and you can work on it in my office. You can get an idea of what I’m talking about, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, even though I’m leary.
He leads me down the hall and opens his office door. The space is relatively boyish with a modern flare. He has a large desk with his multiple monitors set up. The wall behind him is three dimensional, with slick black hexagons. He has some shelves that house a few awards, lego builds, and photographs. There are a few plants over by the window and hanging on the ceiling, as well as a massive plant by his desk. But what really catches my eye, and what Mack leads me to is a massive bean bag chair. I’m not even sure you could call it that. It could easily seat five people.
“Is this going to be okay with your leg?” he says in a whisper, and I glance over at where his computer is.
