"Since Jax threatened to hide his hair products if anyone so much as opened a news feed.”
That gets a laugh. "Smart man." She helps herself to one of Aidan's muffins—blueberry lemon, from the smell. "So, subject change. Have you given any more thought to the move?"
Heat floods my cheeks. Right. That.
"The moving truck's booked for next week," I admit, focusing very hard on my coffee. "Tuesday, actually."
Jessica squeals—actually fucking squeals—and launches herself at me. I barely manage to save my coffee from becoming a casualty of her enthusiasm.
"Oh my god, it's really happening! You're moving in with your pack!"
"It's not that big a deal," I mutter, but we both know I'm lying. It's huge. Massive. Terrifying and exciting and about a dozen other emotions I can't even name.
"Not a big deal?" Jessica pulls back to stare at me. "Six months ago you were convinced you'd die alone surrounded by sweaters. Now you're moving in with five professional hockeyplayers who worship the ground you walk on. That's thebiggestdeal!"
"When you put it like that..."
"I'm so fucking happy for you." Her eyes are suspiciously bright. "You deserve this, Lex. All of it. The pack, the house, the ridiculous amount of orgasms I'm sure you're having?—"
"Jessica!"
"What? I've seen how they look at you. Like you're their personal goddess. And that house has excellent soundproofing, which I'm sure you'll appreciate."
I bury my burning face in my hands. "I hate you."
"You love me." She steals another bite of muffin. "Have you figured out which room you're taking? Or are you just gonna rotate through all their beds like some kind of sexual timeshare?"
"We're converting one of the rooms into my space," I explain, still talking to my hands because looking at my sister right now might kill me. "Somewhere I can work on designs, have my own area when I need it. But yeah, the sleeping arrangements are... flexible."
"I'll bet they are."
My phone buzzes before I can throw something at her. Dmitri's name lights up the screen.
DMITRI: Can I pick you up? Need to discuss something at the house.
My stomach drops. This is it. They've heard from the league.
LEXIE: Something important?
DMITRI: Yes.
I sigh. Coming from Dmitri, it's practically a novel, but I've gotten to know all their little quirks and learned that Dmitri will send a one-word text immediately followed by gathering me into his arms and kissing me like he hasn't seen me for a whole year.
"What's wrong?" Jessica reads my expression too well.
"Dmitri wants to pick me up. Says they need to discuss something at the house."
"The verdict from the league?"
"Maybe." I'm already gathering my things, hands shaking slightly. "Can you?—"
"I'll lock up," she assures me. "Go. And text me the second you know anything."
I'm out the door before she finishes talking, standing on the sidewalk like an idiot because I didn't think to ask how long Dmitri would be. But I should have known better. His black SUV rounds the corner less than two minutes later.
Dmitri's out and opening my door before I can reach for the handle. He looks... nervous? Which is terrifying because Dmitri doesn't do nervous. Dmitri does stoic and occasionally murderous.
His expression lightens when he spots me, and a genuine smile graces that handsome face. He pulls me into his arms and off the ground, kissing me breathless. "Now there is a sight for sore eyes."
