Page 7 of All Packed Up

“You’re just gonna take a stranger home? What if I’m the serial killer,” she taunted, leaning down to scoop the glass into the dustpan carefully.

“Oh no, an omega after me, what will I ever do,” he droned, voice flat and somehow full of mirth at the same time.

She chuckled at his sarcasm, dumping the last dustpan full of glass into the trash. Wendy sat the dustpan and broom against the doorjamb before spying the closet he’d claimed the items from. Being the nice, helpful person she was, Wendy returned them to their original place.

A little mew caught her attention as she was coming back out, and she glanced down to find her baby’s bright green eyes staring up at her.

“Hey, baby,” she said, and bent at the waist. She placed her hands under his fluffy little arms and lifted, supporting his butt as she stood. Knuckles purred and nuzzled into her cheek as she adjusted his weight in her arms.

“My little man,” she cooed.

It wasn’t easy toting the cat around everywhere, but she wasn’t going to just leave him. Not when she’d fought so hard for him in the first place.

Wendy carried him with her as she entered the locker room again.

Nic was smoothing a hand over the tape, making sure it was flat as she paused.

“I do have one question,” he voiced without turning to face her. “Who is Knuckles?”

Wendy stalked across the bathroom and waited patiently. When Nic realized she wasn’t answering, he turned and she dumped the cat in his arms.

The beta cupped his hands beneath him instinctively.

He’ll do.

“Knuckles, meet Nic.”

* * *

Nic’s place was nice.

Nicer than she would have expected.

But it was farther into town from the gym, the buildings squished together like toothpicks in a box.

Perfect.

He was on the third floor of a condominium type building. It was smaller than where she’d come from, but she was damned happy to be anywhere but there.

“The neighbors are cool, they have been here for a long time, and privacy is their thing. You don’t have to worry about someone knocking on the door for a cup of sugar or anything.”

Wendy considered just disappearing one last time. This beta seemed too nice for her to drag him down with her problems.

But who said she was dragging him down? He didn’t have to know a damned thing about why she was running. She’d get through this heat and come up with another plan, hopefully one less clumsy. Knuckles chirped in her arms, and she petted his head to appease him while they made their journey.

She didn’t see a single neighbor in the hallways or in the elevator, but she had seen lights on in windows.

“At least your neighbors are home. That means they’ll hear me if I have to scream,” she warned as Nic’s keys jingled when he slid one into the lock.

“If I was going to murder you, I would have done it at the gym where there were no witnesses. Here it is,” he said, swinging a hand out as if to show it off. “Home sweet home. Don’t judge my decor too much.”

It definitely looked like a bachelor pad. “How old are you?” she asked innocently.

He narrowed his gaze as he lifted the scarf from around his neck and hung it on the back of the door. “Thirty-one. Why?”

Wendy hummed in response. He wasn’t too much older than her, at twenty-five. But he sure as hell still decorated like a bachelor.

Not a speck of flowers or artwork. A floor lamp, a brown leather sectional, and a coffee table all framed the area in front of a huge television. The kitchen was simple, and she hardly saw anything littering the cabinets. Maybe he didn’t cook? It was clean, if sparse.