Court beams, then drops down to nestle into the pillows.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Piers lingering by the food, waiting for the rest of his pack to serve themselves before he takes his turn, only for him to look just as shocked as I felt when Forsythe hands him the plate he’d been working on. “Go sit with Ren, baby,” the prince murmurs, nudging him toward us, toward me.
Thank god it's working. This reminder of what it should be like to be a pack. That Piers should always be included and lovedand cared for. I can only hope that this reminder sticks with them after I’m gone.
“You planning on sitting at any time soon, Pix?”
With a huff I drop next to him, sitting crossed legged and straight backed, and shoving half a slider into my mouth.
Piers lingers at the edge of the floor cushions, waiting like Court had, until I invite him in. Thayer, Grieves and Forsythe do the same. “What a pretty fort you’ve made for us,cor mea,” Forsythe murmurs as he kneels, balancing a plate and a glass of bourbon.
I think I’m going to blush for the rest of the night.
“It’s just a blanket fort,” I lie. “You all are acting like it's something else entirely.” Which it is. But the embarrassment of realizing I built a nest for a pack that doesn’t actually want me is too much, so I’ll lie my ass off to save face. “It just like what I said I’d be doing on a lazy Sunday, right?”
Besides, tonight isn’t about me. It's about them. It's about Piers. It's about leaving them better than I found them.
I need to remember that.
No matter what happens—or doesn’t happen—between us, I care about these men. I want them to be happy. To feel loved. To feel free to show their love to each other.
And that starts with this.
Spending time together in a pressure free space.
Of course that's an illusion at the moment, seeing as there are no less than six cameras recording us right now. Though I’m not sure how much footage they’ll be able to use, seeing as they’ve made a point to exclude Piers as much as they can.
But that’s none of my concern.
Thayer nudges my plate and I take it as the gentle suggestion it is to continue eating. We devour almost every crumb of food I made. Well, the alphas do. I nibble on my first plate as they go back for seconds and thirds.
Until we’re too stuffed to swallow another bite.
Plates are abandoned in favor of drinks, blankets are draped overlaps. Rain lashes against the windows, thunder rattling the glass, but inside the cabana it’s warm and golden and smells like grease and sugar and something dangerously close to home.
Court drags the console closer to the TV with his foot. “All right,” he says, already reaching for controllers. “Winner picks the next game.”
“Absolutely not,” I say instantly, grabbing my own controller and selecting Mario Kart before anyone can argue.. “Winner brags for the rest of the night.”
Grieves lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh, she’s one of those.”
“I warned you,” Piers murmurs fondly.
“She’s a killer,” Thayer adds. “Competitive to a fault.”
The game loads, bright and cheerful, wildly at odds with the storm outside. I don’t even realize how focused I’ve become as I choose my racer and my cart, until Forsythe chuckles. “You’re leaning forward.”
“I am not,” I snap, immediately leaning forward more.
“And your tongue is poking out the corner of your mouth,” Piers teases.
It totally is. Can’t help it. It helps me concentrate, strange as it sounds.
Court shifts behind me, then tugs me back so I’m sitting between his bent knees, my back against his chest. His arms come around me easily, hands overlapping mine on the controller like this is something we’ve done a hundred times before.
“Relax, pixie,” he murmurs near my ear. “Let me help.”
“Oh no,” I say sweetly, shaking him off and thrusting a free controller at him. “You are not stealing my glory.”
