"I heard that," Aidan calls over his shoulder, already heading back to the kitchen for coffee.
Darren takes the spot on my other side, his thigh pressing warmly against mine. "Having fun?" he asks quietly, his blue eyes searching mine.
"Surprisingly, yes," I admit. "Your pack is not what I expected."
"Good unexpected or bad unexpected?"
"Good," I assure him, and the smile that spreads across his face makes my heart patter.
Yep. I’m screwed.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of conversation, laughter, and more dessert than any six people should reasonably consume. I learn that Dmitri has a secret passion for gardening, that Jax writes poetry he never shows anyone, thatZayn speaks three languages fluently, and that Aidan once tried to dye his hair team colors and ended up with what he describes as "toxic sludge green" for two months no matter what he did.
I find myself sharing stories too, about growing up with Jessica as a sister, about the disaster that was my first attempt at designing knitwear, about the time I accidentally shipped a customer the wrong order and ended up with a five-star review anyway because "the universe knew what she needed better than she did."
It's easy. Comfortable. Nothing like the strained, awkward interactions I'd been bracing myself for.
By the time I glance at my watch and realize it's nearly midnight, I'm genuinely surprised. The time has flown by in a way I wasn't expecting.
"I should probably head home," I say reluctantly, setting down my coffee mug. "I have orders to pack in the morning."
"Of course," Jax says, standing immediately. "Thank you for coming. For giving us a chance."
"Thank you for having me," I say, finding I mean it.
"It was our pleasure," Dmitri adds, his accent thicker with the late hour and what I suspect is a fair amount of Aidan's bourbon cherries.
"We should do this again," Aidan says eagerly, then catches himself. "I mean, if you want to. No pressure."
"I'd like that," I find myself saying, and I mean it. Despite the bombshell they dropped, despite the complications, I've enjoyed myself tonight.
Each of the alphas takes a moment saying goodbye, and Aidan secretly passes me his chocolate chip cookie recipe like it's an arcane secret and Zayn might intercept it at any moment.
Darren insists on driving me home, waving off my protests about him being tired after a long day. The others see us to the door, their goodbyes warm but not overwhelming. There's nopressure, no expectation, just genuine satisfaction in the evening we've shared.
The drive back to my apartment is quiet, comfortable. Darren's hand finds mine across the center console.
"Thank you," he says as we pull up in front of my building. "For tonight. For giving them a chance."
"They're not so bad," I admit with a small smile. "When they're not running away from the dinner table or making cryptic comments about pumpkin spice."
He laughs, the sound warm in the confines of the car. "They grow on you. Like a fungus."
"Charming comparison."
"You know what I mean." His expression grows more serious. "They really liked you, Lexie. All of them."
"Even Zayn?" I ask skeptically.
"Especially Zayn," Darren says with a grin. "He actually acted almost human tonight. That's practically a declaration of undying devotion from him."
I laugh, shaking my head. "The bar is very low, apparently."
"The lowest," he agrees, his smile softening as he looks at me. "But seriously, thank you. For being open to this. Whatever this is becoming."
"I'm still processing," I admit. "The whole scent match thing is... a lot."
"I know." He squeezes my hand gently. "No pressure, remember? We go as slow as you need."
