“Ah, I completely forgot about that,” Mac sounded confused, probably because he rarely forgot anything on our band schedule. “Obviously we can’t cancel though.”
“Mac,” I grunted out, striding towards him and gripping his right forearm, “don’t you think we should stay with Tessa? She's so damn vulnerable right now. The Vault is almost an hour away.”
“She is,” Mac agreed, “but so are our finances. Ditching a charity event isn’t going to do our reputation much good. If we want “Sinner’sKiss” to do well, good PR is key. You know that as well as I do. The label will only push it if we generate the buzz first.”
I dropped my hand. No one was going to back me up. Dixon pushed back into the room; four tonics and a couple bars were gripped in his meaty fists. He tossed Mac one tonic and a bar, keeping the rest for himself. Surely, he’d feel the same way I did; Dix would a thousand percent be on my side. No damn doubt.
“Dixon, tell Cat that we can’t do the concert this weekend. Tessa’s our priority.” I held my hands open towards him, palms to the ceiling. My acting skills were shit, but I put every ounce of pleading into my expression and locked gazes with my pack brother. He lifted both eyebrows, trying to work out what I wanted.
But Dixon never got a chance to respond. A sleepy, blanket-wrapped Tessa stumbled into the room. She opened her mouth to say something, but a yawn stifled her words. We watched as she shuffled socked feet across the floor, rubbing her tired eyes. When she was at the sectional, she plopped down and yawned a second time.
“You should go back to bed,” I quickly moved to her, sitting down on the coffee table and leaning forward to grip her knees. Well, I thought it was her knees. The blanket was thick and lumpy.
“No,” she mumbled, fighting back a third yawn. “I heard you guys talking. You can’t cancel the—” her thick, groggy words were cut off when the yawn won. “Concert,” she finished seconds later.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I pressed. “It’s better if we all just stay here while you recover.”
“I'm not dying,” she scoffed, trying to widen her eyes, but she was still too sleepy. They drooped into a half-closed position again. “Besides, you can’t leave me here if I go with you.” She pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to hide another yawn.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tessa,” I said gently. “We’re used to that scene. The paparazzi, the cameras, the screaming fans. You’re not. You don’t need to expose yourself.”
She stopped gripping the blanket around her. It fell loose around her body to reveal a barely supportive tank top. My inner Alpha groaned atthe sight of her. When she reached down, patting my hand with hers, I felt myself begin to harden. Fuck, she was so beautiful, even half-asleep. I quickly realized she hadn’t heard what I’d said or hadn’t processed it. Maybe she just didn’t care. Tessa could be stubborn. We knew that when we’d signed the contract addendum, a result of her refusing to give up Josie.
”Just... so... you know...” she paused, trying not to fall asleep mid-sentence, “I’m... going.”
Her last two words were barely audible, but we all heard her loud and clear, nonetheless. She shifted sideways, body falling against the plush cushions, and she lifted her legs onto the sofa. My hands fell away from her as she moved. Tray bounced around the sectional, quickly snagging a throw pillow. He leaned over her, lifted her head gently, and placed the pillow beneath to support her neck. Her black, silky curls spilled out over the cream fabric. Tray watched her shift a little until she gave a little sigh in her sleep, as if she was perfectly comfortable. He gave the whole room a silly double thumbs up before moving to sit back down.
“There, I told you Tessa would agree with me.” Catalina wore a self-satisfied smile.
“She was barely coherent,” I argued.
“Coherent enough to know what she wants,” Dixon grunted, knocking back his last Alpha tonic.
“Traitor,” I grumbled.
"Who you calling a traitor?" Dixon shot back, crushing the empty tonic bottles with one hand then tossing them towards the gold wire trash basket near the fireplace. He missed, spectacularly. All three went in different directions, pinging off the wall and adjacent cabinet. He frowned, then stood up and jogged over to pick the crushed plastic up and throw them away properly. It was crazy, how only a couple of weeks with Tessa could hit his reset button. A month ago, the miscalculated throw would have caused him to lose his shit so badly that he’d have smashed something to smithereens.
“You, man.” I pushed, standing up from the coffee table. It wasn’t Dixon’s fault. I was just itching for a fight now. Tessa still being in heatwasn’t helping. We were all in rut now because of it.I didn’t know if I wanted to… Fight. Fuck. Or live the life fandango.“I thought you’d for sure be the one to take my side.”
“There’s no side here, Ryder,” Dixon rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “We want to take care of Tessa for life, not just for a fucking weekend. So, we can’t bail. We got to get back on our damn game, man.” With the last few words, I could hear Dix begin to ride the edge. He shook it off, gaining control. He did that himself, without us having to talk him down.
"I do want to take care of Tessa for life, Dix!” I practically shouted, taking a step towards him.
“Ryder,” Mac warned, his voice low. He pulled at his collar, skin beginning to rash as he tried to hold himself together. Rut wasn’t as bad as fighting ferality, but it wasn’t a cake walk.
“What, Mac?” I scowled at him.
“You’re going to wake Tessa.” He simply said, swiping sweat from his brow now. “Take a deep breath. We’re all in the same boat, just as we were before. Fighting our needs.”
Fighting our needs.
Dammit. The cure had come, but with it a fresh problem.
If only she were ready. If only she’d bond with us to become a real pack.
I took another step towards Dixon.
Mac cleared his throat, a wordless reminder.
