I press my lips together. ‘I got to work.’
‘For Atticus?’
I bite the inside of my cheek. ‘Yes.’
He doesn’t reply after that. Well, screw him. I’m not going to check my phone all day to see if he has said anything else.
Okay, I will. Don’t judge. I want to know what is going on with him but I’m also thinking about Atticus and his reticence with me, and Ryder, and generally thinking what the fuck I’m doing with my life.
Is my mom right? Am I shooting myself in the foot? My fascination with these three men isn’t going to lead anywhere.
Unless you accept you are a beta and choose one. One man.
Yeah…
There are days when I want to give in and convince myself it would be for the best. Or just get a cat and be done with men.
Right on cue, a voice message arrives from Mom, talking excitedly about the neighbor’s beta son, how handsome and successful he is and still looking for a mate.
Sometimes, I swear, I wonder if my mom can read my thoughts and feelings. It’s one thing when she’s looking at me—apparently I wear my heart on my sleeve—and quite another when she does it from a distance with uncanny accuracy.
I turn the phone facedown without replying. What could I say that I haven’t already said? I’m an upbeat person most of the time. Nothing gets me down. I’m a fan of never giving up and living life to the fullest, but the constant reminders that I’m fighting against the current are so tiring.
“You slept badly,” I tell my reflection. “That’s what this heavy feeling is. You need more coffee. And a hug from a friend.”
Well, all right then. I’ll go get my hug and turn this into a bright day.
June isn’t answering her door. Or her phone. Aren’t besties supposed to be the greatest sources of hugs? What am I gonna do now? Where do I get my hugs?
Okay, I’m kidding. Sort of. Frowning, I turn my back to her door. What is going on with her? Who could tell me?
My own dark thoughts forgotten, I scroll through my phone contacts and stop at Gigi. I call her and she answers breathlessly.
“Coco! Hey.” Heavy panting. “What’s up?”
“Damn,” I whisper. “Did I interrupt a sex marathon?”
“What? No!”
“Are you sure?” I’m concerned now. “Are you getting knotted to kingdom come and can’t talk for the size of the?—”
“I said no!” Gigi snaps.
“The lady doth protest too much,” I mutter, grinning. “Can you talk, then?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I decide. “So… June. Have you heard from her lately?”
“June? No, why?”
“Oh.” I start down the stairs toward my apartment. “Nothing. She hasn’t been around, doesn’t answer her phone… I got a little worried.”
“I don’t know… Wait. Could it have to do with that pack?”
“What pack?” I open my apartment door and step inside. I walk over to the window seat and curl up in it, looking down. “She never mentioned one.”
“The Sexton pack?”
