5. Oz

5

Oz

F ucking mistletoe. I dodge the new bundle hanging in the hallway just a few feet from the nest. Even though there’s no one up here right now, I don’t want to risk it. Or at least, I don’t think I do. I can’t fucking decide what I want.

When Meggie first hung it up, I didn’t mind it so much. In fact, that was a pretty great morning. Nils was the first to spot it when we woke up. Ellis immediately dragged Meggie out of bed and under it so he could kiss her senseless. Not to be outdone, McQuinn took it a step further and got to his knees to kiss other parts of our omega. I watched from the bed, grateful that no one could read my mind as I thought about McQuinn on his knees for me under the mistletoe.

Sure, Harrison and Dante reprimanded her for hanging it on her own without someone to hold the ladder for her. But mostly, we were all pretty happy about yet another excuse to kiss our omega.

But Meggie kept hanging up more and more of it. Now, it’s nearly impossible to avoid the fucking weed. And Meggie isn’t always there to kiss.

Since almost all the rest of them are already together sexually, they’re always fucking kissing and none of them seem to mind.

Harrison walks right past the mistletoe without a concern in the world. No one but Meggie kisses him, and we all know it.

But I can’t just ignore it the way he does. I secretly want someone to kiss me under the mistletoe, and I don’t want it to just be Meggie.

I’ve done a lot of self-reflection since Paris. I even read an entire book on the Kinsey Scale. Emily read it with me. We had a secret book club every Tuesday for a few weeks. It helped, but I’m still a scared dipshit who can’t talk to his pack about his sexuality.

They’ve only ever known me as the guy who chased tail and scored with women. Will they even believe me? No, I know they’ll believe me. They’re good guys. They aren’t the type to doubt what someone says about their own identity or sexuality. But for some fucked up reason, I can’t just get my act together and tell them.

So, I skirt around the mistletoe to avoid the issue all together.

“Hey, you ready?” McQuinn calls up the stairs.

“Fuck, yeah.” More ready than he knows. I need to get out of this house and away from the fucking mistletoe.

It’s the day before Christmas Eve, or Christmas Adam, as Ellis likes to call it, and all the guys are going out to get Meggie a Christmas present. We haven’t decided what yet, but according to Harrison, we aren’t coming home until we’ve got the perfect gift.

Meggie’s gonna hang out with Emily while we’re gone. Em and her pack are coming to pick Meggie up in a bit, and I think they’re going to watch a Christmas movie while they stuff envelopes for the non-profit Meggie started with Harrison’s mom—New Year’s cards or something? I really don’t know.

My nerves are frayed and I’m jittery. McQuinn can stress eat a whole gingerbread house and he’s fine, but just the couple of fruity candy canes I ate this morning gave me the sugar shakes. Okay, it was more like three candy canes.

Or four.

A box! I ate a box of candy canes. A whole box and only twice did I see how far I could stick the sugary rod back in my throat before I gagged. I need to get out of this house.

The guys are all waiting for me in the SUV when I come down. I got a little sidetracked saying goodbye to Meggie. It’s not like we’ll be apart for more than a few hours, but I’m an obsessive bastard. And maybe my sexual frustration has me taking up a little more of her time than usual.

The car horn honks, and I run across the driveway. Harrison is driving, and Dante’s in the passenger’s seat. Which puts me climbing into the middle right next to McQuinn. Nils is on his other side and Ellis is in the back.

Scar-crossed Lovers (Hold The Onions) by Satan’s Panties blares through the speakers. Some songs just take you right back to a place and time and this one makes me think of when I first moved into the pack house. Nils and McQuinn had just gone to see the band in person, so they were constantly listening to them.

There’s a warm feeling in my chest as I remember those first few weeks together. I joined the pack just because of the water polo team and never would have guessed we’d all become so close.

Satan’s Panties and pop punk aren’t my favorite kind of music, but it makes me think of these guys, so it’s grown on me. But I won’t ever admit that to Nils. He takes music way too seriously. If I tell him I like Satan’s Panties, we’ll soon be hours deep in social media fan conspiracies and decoding lyrics.

Harrison turns a corner a little too fast, and I slide into McQuinn’s warm, hard body. When we even out, his thigh still presses against mine, and my stomach clenches. I’ve got to clamp this shit down or I’m gonna end up with a boner I can’t hide, so I scoot all the way to the window.

You’ll Get Arrested For Doing That In Ohio comes on and the lude lyrics make that warmth in my chest move lower. Shit! Now is not the time to get an erection. Down, boy!

The guys from Satan’s Panties are screaming about dick as mine grows chubbier by the second. McQuinn drapes an arm over the back of my seat and leans across me to ask Nils something. I have no idea what he says because my blood is pounding in my ears and all I can focus on is how close they both are to me.

My lungs fill with the fresh scent of citrus from McQuinn and eucalyptus and mint from Nils. Like a teenager going through puberty, I can feel my heartbeat in my cock, hard as a fucking pillar. I usually have more control over my dick than this!

“Change the fucking music!”

My sudden outburst has all of them giving me confused looks. Even Harrison meets my gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Um, it’s just…” I scramble to find a reason for my demand. “Shouldn’t we listen to some Christmas music to get in the mood?”

“Sure.” Dante pauses Satan’s Panties and scrolls through his phone to find something else.

“None of your low-key depressing Christmas shit,” McQuinn says. “We need to psyche ourselves up.”

I’m plenty worked up and wouldn’t mind one of Dante’s mellow, bluesy playlists. But I keep my mouth shut.

“Maybe we should talk about what to get Meggie,” Ellis says as Dante settles on a playlist Nils made last Christmas. It’s upbeat, but traditional. The kind of songs you hear over the sound system at the mall this time of year.

“Good idea,” Harrison agrees.

We decided we’d add our own little gifts to Meggie’s stocking, but go in on one big gift for her together.

“It needs to be something she actually wants,” Nils says.

“Or something we want,” McQuinn waggles his eyebrows.

“We’re not getting her lingerie,” Harrison says, shutting down McQuinn’s idea before he’s even made it.

“I have an idea,” Ellis says from the back. “But I don’t think the old man will like it.”

“Try me.” Harrison stops at a red light and glances back at him.

“Well, Meggie said she always wanted a pet when she was growing up, but—”

“We should get a cat,” McQuinn interrupts.

“A cat?” Nils scrunches his eyebrows.

“I’ve always wanted a turtle,” Dante says.

“A turtle?” McQuinn snorts out a laugh.

“Well, actually,” Ellis tries to continue, “Meggie wanted–”

“We should get a snake,” I chime in .

“We’re not getting a snake.” Harrison scowls. The light turns green, and he makes a left turn toward the mall.

Ellis lets out an annoyed sigh. “Meggie wa–”

“If we’re gonna get her a pet, it should be something as unique as she is,” Dante says. Romantic shithead.

“But I want a cat,” McQuinn says. “Everyone loves cats.”

“Everyone does not love cats.” Nils glares.

“Show of hands, who doesn’t like cats,” McQuinn says.

I’m the first to raise my hand, but not the last. McQuinn scowls at all five raised hands.

“How about a dog?” I ask.

“Meggie wanted a chinchilla!” Ellis blurts out before he can get interrupted again.

“What the hell is a chinchilla?” Harrison asks as he pulls into the mall parking lot.

“They’re kinda like hamsters,” Ellis explains. “Or tiny bunnies?”

“They’re rodents,” Nils corrects.

“Like rats?” I grimace.

“No. They’re cute and cuddly.” Ellis pulls up a picture on his phone and passes it around the car. “Meggie said her neighbor had one, and she always wanted one too.”

The furry thing on Ellis’s image search looks like a mouse with enormous ears. I guess it’s cute, in a weird gerbil-looking kind of way .

“Chinchilla it is then,” Harrison parks the car in front of the mall. “Looks like we’re going to the pet store, gentlemen.”

We’re all of the same mind. If Meggie wants a rodent in the house, she’ll get a rodent.