Page 5 of What We Don't Say: Part One

“Jesus, stop smothering our Beta,” Idris chuckles from the entrance, ruining the moment. Callie peeks over my shoulder, her smile widening a little before she starts wiping her eyes.

Idris stalks over and steals her from me, his purr immediately starting up through his chest. I glare at his jealous ass before his hand slips around the back of my neck, my lids fluttering closed in response. “Fuck, I always forget how good you are at that.”

Calliope snorts. “It always does make me feel better. I have some schoolwork to grade before getting back to campus… I—”

Idris cuts her off, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. I have to fight to open my eyes again, his purr nearly undoing me. “Come find me later, princess. I have a present for you.” Her brows lift in confusion as I cough to cover up a laugh. I completely forgot the bastard went toTwisted Kinkslast week for new ropes. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

She lets out a little squeal as I reach down to squeeze her ass, Calliope leaving the kitchen in much better spirits than before lunch. I wait until I know she’s far enough away before leaning back against the kitchen sink. “Idris, there has to be a reason why Garrett’s so adamant about this placing. We’ve been talking about it for a while but why now? What’s the rush?”

Idris shrugs, playfully shoving me aside to get to the dishes Calliope left. “Maybe he’s tired of watching us loving up on Callie and wants something of his own?” He lets out a small sigh when a growl slips from my lips. “Sloane, I already talked to Garrett about the way he’s been saying shit to Callie. He says it’s not meant to harm.”

“And you believe him? She flinched today.”

“No, I don’t but I also don’t know what the next step is without making everything fall apart. At first, I thought it was easy. Just tell Garrett we’re not ready for an Omega but Callie is so fucking happy. She already cleaned out that reading nook and she’s already made a list of new plants to buy. Garrett might be twisting what she’s doing butshewants this, you and I can’t take that from her.”

He places the dishes in the drying rack before reaching up to cup my face in his hands, wet suds and all. “She comes first, always. And when she’s out of the room, we talk to Garrett and make sure he’s on the same page.”

“And if he’s not?” I ask.

Idris cups my face in both wet hands. “She comes first. We speak to Garrett before Theo arrives, and we make him answer the question he keeps avoiding.”

“Which question?”

“Whether he sees Callie as part of the new pack or as the person responsible for building it.” Idris kisses me once, then reaches past me to shut off the faucet Callie left running.

Calliope

The dinner containers are still warm against my ribs, garlic and roasted chicken blooming through the insulated bag as I cross the parking garage toward the glass-fronted lobby ofBlackline Securities. My work tote keeps sliding off my shoulder, the strap catching in the soft wool of my coat, and I have three student essays waiting in my inbox with subject lines that all begin with some variation ofQuick question, which almost never means anything quick.

I should go home after class. That would be the sensible choice. My lecture ran long, my feet hurt from standing in front of a classroom for two hours, and Garrett has already texted the pack thread that he’ll be out late with work, which means the house will be quiet enough for grading.

But Sloane sent one message at four-thirty that said,Idris has consumed only coffee and rage today,and that’s all it takes.

I stopped for dinner on Fourth, ordered the roasted chicken Sloane pretends he doesn’t crave every week, added the spicy greens Idris likes, and told myself I was only being practical. They’ll forget to eat if no one puts food directly in front of them. Idris will claim he’s had “something” and mean a handful of almonds at noon. Sloane will accuse a protein bar of being dinner and then steal half my meal while grinning like a criminal.

My phone buzzes as I reach the elevator, Mara’s name lighting up the screen before I can tuck it into my pocket. I answer with my shoulder, shifting the insulated bag higher before the containers can tilt.

“I’m not ignoring you,” I say.

“You are absolutely ignoring me,” Mara says, her voice bright with the kind of accusation only a friend can make sound affectionate. “Which is rude, because I sent you a legitimate career opportunity, not a pyramid scheme.”

“I saw it.”

“And? Come on, Callie. It’s agoodopportunity. It’s perfect for you!”

I huff out a sigh. “And I’m carrying roasted chicken through a parking garage.”

“That isn't an answer, Calliope.”

I smile despite myself and press the elevator button with my elbow. Mara has worked with me at Briarwick for three years, long enough to know when I’m dodging, and long enough tocall me on it without bothering to soften the landing. She also sent the Halston College posting four times since Monday, each email forwarded with a different subject line. The most recent one says:Full-time track. Better pay. Fewer committee assignments. Stop pretending you’re not tempted.

“The Halston position is beautiful on paper,” I admit as the elevator doors open. “Better course load, better pay, full-time track, smaller department. I read the whole thing.”

“You read the whole thing and then didn’t answer me for six hours.”

“I had class.”

“You had class for six hours?”