Page 96 of All Packed Up

Chapter 24

TATE

Tate inhaled the musky smoke, let it swirl in his lungs before he exhaled in a shaky breath. Next to him, Arlo’s teeth chattered, and the alpha couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Shut up, it’s f-fucking cold out here,” Arlo snapped at him.

Tate passed the joint over and puffed warm air into his hands. They were safe under the porch, but ten feet away rain splattered into the cold ground with a vengeance. The temperature had dropped significantly, and Tate wondered what god they’d pissed off to get this luck.

He imagined the giant pile of blankets they’d be sleeping on in front of the fire. With Wendy.

So maybe it wasn’t all bad luck.

Speaking of Wendy… “Do you think we should offer her some?” he questioned as he passed the joint to Arlo.

The other alpha paused with the joint to his lips, hesitating before he inhaled, the end flaring bright orange. “Her day’s been kinda shitty,” Arlo murmured on his exhale. “We should.”

Arlo sucked on the end of the joint again, arching his brow at Tate.

Taking the hint, Tate took the few short steps back to the door before cracking it open. The warmth hit him like a smack to the face, and it made the cold at his back feel even colder. Griffith tilted his head back on the couch, and Wendy peeked around the couch’s edge.

“Just wondering if you want any, Wendy?” Tate called over to her.

Her eyes flicked to Grif for a split second before returning to Tate. She nodded, biting her lip and doing things to Tate even if she didn’t know it.

Her demeanor made him want to smile. “Do you wanna borrow my coat for a minute?”

Wendy stood and made her way over to him, practically glowing by the flickers of the candles.

“You guys can come inside and smoke, it’ll go up the chimney anyway, and it’s fucking freezing out there.”

Grif didn’t have to offer twice. Tate opened the door wider and stepped through, motioning for Arlo to follow.

It felt forbidden to carry the joint through the house, white wisps dissipating in the air as he got comfy on the mattresses.

But Griffith was right. He watched as Wendy inhaled her first hit, orange tip glowing brighter and casting a soft glow across her features before it faded. When she exhaled, blowing toward the fireplace, the draft sucked the smoke right up the chimney.

Tate relaxed a little more after that, leaning back against the couch on the opposite end of Griffith. It was like he was a kid again, making a blanket fort, and something like affection unfurled in his chest.

Arlo took a seat in front of him, back to the fire, and grinned one of his easy, attractive smiles. His laugh lines made an appearance and an image from the night before flashed through Tate’s mind. Of those same curled lips wrapped around his cock.

A flush of heat washed through him, and Arlo’s smile tilted into a smirk, as if he knew what he was thinking about. Rolling his eyes, Tate let his gaze drift to Wendy as she passed the joint back to Arlo.

All of their attention shifted to the staircase as it creaked and groaned under Nic’s steps. “What’s going on down here?” he asked.

“Arlo and Tate made a big sleeping pallet,” Griffith explained. He crossed one ankle over the other knee, arm outstretched along the back of the couch.

Nic joined them, sitting beside Griffith and bumping Tate with his knee.

They had a really fucking good-looking crew in this living room.

We’d all make a pretty hot pack too.

Arlo passed him the joint, and Tate avoided his gaze, figuring his know-it-all roommate would probably read right through him.

Stupid intrusive thoughts.

“So is this where everyone is sleeping tonight?” Nic questioned, brow arched as he surveyed the three of them amongst the blankets.