We grin at each other.
I stab a broccoli floret and push it past my lips. She digs into her cobb salad.
“What did you mean when you said 'your her'?” I ask.
“As soon as I realized you were coming, I looked you up. You're the cause of the melancholy in the Barclay pack.”
I shake my head. “Not exactly. I was set up in high school, and I lost my would-be pack. You know what?”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
“It’s for the best. I’m leaving myself open for a new alpha. Singular.” I hold my head up high.
“I don’t want a pack anymore.”
“Hmm, you’re an omega and not many alphas are looking your way,” Chavelle adds.
I wonder why that is. They always looked at me at my old school.
Then I catch Sawyers scent on my face again.
“Sawyer purposely marked me so other alphas will stay away.”
“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to share,” she giggles.
Chavelle peeks around the dining hall. “Meet me near the large tree not far from the big rock at ten p.m.”
“There has to be lots of large trees across campus,” I say.
“Trust me. You can’t miss it. It’s so nice to meet you in person.”
“Why are you leaving?” I ask.
“You’ll-” her words are cut off.
“I see Harper’s making friends,” Thatcher says.
“Goodbye, Chavelle,” he states.
“Bye alpha,” Chavelle scurries off.
“What the fuck are you doing, Thatcher?” I bite out.
He drags a chair close, sinks into it, as he grabs a broccoli floret off my tray and pops it into his mouth.
“I’m sorry to hear that your grandmother is sick. I hope her health improves.”
“Thank you.”
"Why didn't you just take a semester off? Come back when things settled down?"
Thatcher's question is casual, but his appearance is anything but. Gray blazer, blue-gray v-neck over a powder blue dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to seem effortless, blue slacks, brown leather shoes. He looks like he's headed to close a business deal, not sit through Pack Dynamics.
My jaw tightens, and I feel my nostrils flare despite my best efforts to stay composed. Then his scent hits me, sandalwood and clean linen, the kind that makes me want to bury my face in his neck and breathe deep.
I blink, steadying myself. “I’m here for my grandmother as long as she needs me. I deserve to attend the school I planned to attend since freshman year of high school. Not my fault Dustin can’t stand to see my face anymore.”
“He plans to look for a mate,” Thatcher remarks.
