“What?” I ask, my voice coming out low. I stop the tremble that begs to be heard.
“We believe you to be our scent match, all of ours.”
Oh, thank goodness. I smile gently as Thorne places a drink in front of me. The red slush looks so refreshing as I bring my lips to it. As I am about to take a sip, a wide straw plops into my drink, and I blush.
I love straws, not that they would know that.
“It looked like you were going to spill it all over yourself.” Throne shrugs as he slides into his own seat.
“I wasn’t,” I say, even though he is right. I’ve beendrinking out of straws for two years now, and the one time I forgot a straw, I spilled the drink down the front of my shirt like a dang toddler, embarrassing myself in front of Ollie and her twin, Luke, who could not stop laughing at me for the rest of our lunch date.
“We’d like to court you, Noa.”
“Odette.” I supply, trying to beat back the beaming smile on my face.
“Noa Odette,” Silas says. “And we’ll start with something low-pressure.”
“Low pressure?”
“A game of never have I ever,” he exclaims as Thorne and Havoc groan.
“I don’t think I’ve played that one before,” I laugh. I’m still reeling from the fact that they want to court me.Me. The Fallon Pack “courted” me for a few days, if I can even call their inspecting me courting.
“We’d like to get to know you, and you us, so what better way than a game?”
“A drinking game?” Thorne asks, clearly opposed to the idea.
“We’re all adults, some of us more than others,” Silas says, waving his hand towards Havoc. “It’ll be fun.”
“It better be, or she’ll be running off towards the nearest exit.” Havoc grumbles.
“It’ll be fun,” I say, giving in to Silas’s puppy eyes. However, I’ve never played the game. Being sociallyanxious, I never went to parties or hung out with big enough groups of people to do this.
Despite my parents’ wishes and my desperate need to please them, I was never the socialite kid. I was always the quiet one on her phone in her room. Just me and the sewing machine, my grandma snuck into my room before she passed.
I hold this sewing machine, though it’s broken beyond repair, close to me. It decorates one of my bookshelves in the living room. The vintage machine is cream-colored with pink swirls.
“I’m only doing sips, though,” I say and blush a bit. I was never a heavy drinker, and I’m definitely not getting drunk with alphas I barely know. No matter how good they smell.
“Of course, of course, yeah, I guess I didn’t think that through,” Silas says, his eyes widening as he stares at the table. I swear I see the tiniest bit of red on his cheeks, and I nearly aww at him. “So say something you’ve done, so we all are on equal drinking ground–”
“If you’re dying for a drink, just take a sip,” Havoc says, but Silas ignores him and continues.
“If you’ve done it, you take a drink. If not, then don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll start,” Thorne says, surprising me, and must have surprised Silas because his head darts up to look at him. “Never have I ever.” His eyes land on me, and I hold his stare. His eyes darken as he tilts his head,and I wish I could have prepared for what he was going to say as fear washes over me.
I’m on edge, and I can’t tell if I’m intrigued or excited.
“Never have I ever?—”
“Keep it P.G.,” Havoc grumbles, and I laugh as Thorne scoffs and leans back in his chair.
“Well, never mind then.”
“No, I’ll go. Never have I ever let a dog lick my face.” Silas says, taking a sip of his rum and Coke.
I don’t drink, but Havoc and Thorne do.
