“Five minutes,” I grunted.
“Ten minutes,” he countered.
“Hundred?” I volleyed back our normal stake.
"Two hundred," Tray said, grinning. "And if it takes longer than twenty minutes, I win double."
"Fine, but then if it’s between zero and nine minutes, I’m the winner.And if it’s between eleven and nineteen, I also win.” I grinned, knowing I had him against the ropes. He was going to have to either hit exactly ten, or over twenty.
“Tricky, tricky, Dixxy,” he sang before poking me in the side.
We walked toward Tray’s Jag in the parking lot. As I reached for the passenger door handle, I stared down at the succulent in my hand. The bright pink flower seemed almost defiant against the green spikes surrounding it. There’d been other, prettier ones. This one had just felt right.
"You know," Tray said as he slid into the passenger seat, "I think she's going to love it."
"You're just saying that because you want to butter me up before you lose our bet.”
"Nah, man. I mean it." He buckled his seatbelt before hitting the start button; the Jag rumbled to life. "It's thoughtful. Shows you're thinking long-term. It’s something couples do, right? They get house plants together. Or a dog, but I don’t think Josie would be too happy about that.”
“Think Josie would like a boyfriend?” I placed the plant carefully in one of the cup holders.
“I think that’s something the whole pack has to discuss,” Tray shot me a glance and then winked. “Poor Mac is holding it together, but two cats might kill him.”
“Mac can suck it up.”
As we pulled out of the parking lot, Tray’s phone buzzed. Shortlyafter, my phone pinged, then pinged, then pinged again.
“Don’t even have to check to know what that is, but I suppose we should verify for purposes of the bet. Want everything to be above board.” I leaned back, fishing my phone out of my pocket.
“Shit,” Tray breathed out, though his voice held a humorous note.
“And that’s two hundred dollars. You can give me the IOU once we’re home.” I held the phone up so he could glance at it as we idled at a stoplight. The cashier had even gotten a photo of security footage that showed us at her counter.
"How the hell did she even get the security footage?" Tray shook his head in disbelief. "That was fast, even for social media."
I scrolled through the comments, my mood darkening with each one I read. "Look at this shit. 'Dixon St. James buying plants for his secret girlfriend.' 'Tray Rivers spotted grocery shopping like a normal person.' And this one..." I paused, jaw clenching. "'Oblivion Haze members spotted acting domestic. Is this the end of their wild ways?'"
"At least they don't know about Tessa," Tray pointed out, pulling through the intersection as the light turned green.
"Yet." I locked my phone and shoved it back in my pocket. "Fuck, I should have just ordered something online. Now every gossip blog is going to be speculating about who I'm buying plants for."
"Hey." Tray's voice was gentle but firm. "Don't let them ruin this for you. You picked something perfect for Tessa, and that's what matters. Not what some random internet strangers think."
I glanced down at the plant; it bobbed slightly as we hit a pothole. Maybe Tray was right. I needed to block out the goddamn noise and focus on what was truly important—Tessa.
Making her feel at home.
Making her feel happy.
Making her see that I wasn’t just a mindless brute.
"But that's exactly what I am, isn't it?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Tray shot me a sharp look as he navigated through traffic. "What the hell are you talking about?"
I hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
“I’m an ogre,” I admitted, voice at full volume now. “I want Tessa to see the guy I used to be. Before Rick died. Before jail. Before this Alpha shit got out of hand.” I hit my chest weakly, then dropped my hand, arm feeling limp.
