Page 110 of All Packed Up

“No prisoners of war?” Nic asked, clearing his tight throat from the silent revelation.

Wendy chuckled. “In his dreams.”

Grif stiffened, but Nic didn’t see any other reaction from him.

The alpha had stood in the ring countless times to jeers from his opponents. Wendy probably wasn’t fazing him, but was Nic going to be the one to inform her of that?

Hell. No.

The last thing he wanted to do was piss off a pre-heat omega. Griffith was braver than he thought, because Nic preferred his nether regions attached.

So he kept his mouth shut and told them the soup looked great. He didn’t credit one or the other even the tiniest bit more. Something told him it was a trap just waiting to snap closed.

As he spooned up a bite of the steaming soup, he noticed both round carrots and diced ones, and he tilted his head, but refrained from asking.

They both tasted just as good as the other.

“Oh my god, Arlo,” Wendy groaned. Nic’s attention shot to her as she made heart eyes at the suddenly concerned alpha. “This is the best cornbread I’ve ever had.”

He visibly relaxed, and Nic tried not to laugh. “Thanks! Told you,” he said, elbowing Tate.

Tate lifted both hands, a fork clutched in one. “Hey, I never said it wasn’t good. Just that you’re cute when you over prepare for stuff.”

Arlo arched a brow, and Nic watched the bond between them practically glow. “That’s not quite the wording I remember…”

“It’s the only one that matters,” Tate pressed with a wink.

Jealousy reared its ugly head again, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to be with someone so… naturally? So easily.

Had he and Griffith ever had that?

They had to. Nic remembered the late nights after fights as he’d doctored Grif and teased him about each scratch. How he’d kissed some of the marks better and then rode Grif until sunrise and made him promise to dodge hits better so Nic wouldn’t have to worry about him so much.

Someone cleared their throat, and Nic blinked himself back to the present and eyed the table. Everyone was done with their meal.

“I’ll never eat again,” Wendy announced, and leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile.

Griffith scoffed. “Glad you liked the soup,” he announced haughtily.

Wendy peeked an eye open and glared at him, and the alpha snickered before he grabbed his bowl and hers before ducking back into the kitchen.

“Hey, I’ll do the dishes,” Nic called after him.

“Me too!” Tate echoed.

It was only fair since he hadn’t helped at all with the preparation. The least he could do was clean up.

He swallowed his last scoop of soup and chased it down with a bite of cornbread before he rose from the table with his empty bowl. Tate grabbed Arlo’s, and they made their way into the kitchen.

Doing dishes was easy, but chasing Griffith out was not.

“Don’t make me go in there,” he pleaded quietly.

“Why?” Nic hissed. “Go sit with Arlo and Wendy.”

“No, Wendy hates me!”

Arlo tsked as he entered the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He leaned against it with a teasing grin. “Shouldn’t have tried to mansplain how to cut carrots.”