I had never seen Nixon so excited.
As we drove to the Silver Night's territory, he had a broad smile on his face. His foot thumped against the floor of the car, and he was constantly talking.
To be honest, I couldn't say that I was entirely sure about this "break," as Nixon and Maia alike had described it. I wasn't sure about leaving my pack, even if it was for a short amount of time, and I wasn't sure about staying in the Silver Night.
But it made him happy.
It made him happy to show me the place he called home, and that was the only reason I'd agreed to this. I would stay for a week or two and then leave. Hopefully, by then, Nixon would let go of the idea that he had to stay with me.
Truth be told, I couldn't stop thinking about that night. We both seemed to have agreed that we wouldn't bring it up, but that didn't stop my mind from running wild. I wasn't angry about what happened that night—actually, the issue was I liked it—enjoyed it even. Admitting that stirred something inside of me. Guilt maybe? This wasn't what either of us needed. Especially after everything that happened in the last few months? I wasn't sure how I felt.
"We're almost there," Nixon said, catching my attention. His eyes focused on the trees we passed by. "When we get there and finish putting away our things, I want to go on that run we talked about."
I rolled my eyes at that. Had it been his choice, we would've run from my pack to the Silver Night. He had tried to convince me, and while part of me wanted to give in to his demands, I ultimately had to say no because we needed to use the car in order to bring the luggage.
"So, where exactly are we staying?" I asked.
"My house, obviously," Nixon responded before his eyes lit up and a smirk took over his face. "You know what I just realized, Tate?"
"What?" I asked, knowing I'd likely regret it.
"We've changed positions. It seems like I'm the one holding you prisoner now."
I shot him a glance. "I did not hold you prisoner. Let's not forget who requested to come and stay."
"Details," Nixon dismissed me. "Don't worry; I won't keep you locked away like you did to me."
I rolled my eyes. "Maybe I should start calling you Rapunzel."
"Rapunzel?"
Nixon's brows knitted together in confusion, adding to the growing list of things he didn't know about. I hadn't said anything because I knew that he wouldn't want to talk about it, but the more I spoke to Nixon, the more I began to realize just how much he didn't know. While I'm sure the difference in how our packs played a role in some aspects, it still surprised me how, when it came to most childhood games, shows, and more, he didn't know what they were. It made me want to know more about his childhood.
"You and I are going to have a movie night at some point," I promise him.
Nixon didn't get the chance to reply. The Silver Night came into view, and a smile immediately broke out on his face. The closer we got, the more I was able to make out two figures standing in front of the pack border—one of the figures belonging to Nolan.
The car comes to a stop, and Nixon is out of it in a flash. Nolan quickly approached his brother and pulled him into an embrace.
"I missed you, Nix," Nolan mumbled.
"You would've thought I'd been gone for years with how tight you're hugging me. It hasn't been that long," Nixon responded in typical Nixon fashion.
"Too long," Nolan told him before letting go. I followed Nixon's lead and got out of the car. Nolan smiled and held his hand out. "It's nice to see you again, Alpha Tatum."
"You as well, Alpha Nolan," I replied and shook his hand.
Nixon rolled his eyes. "Drop the titles. You're not in a meeting."
Nolan gave his brother a playful side glance. "Just because you have no manners doesn't mean the rest of us don't as well."
"Fuck off, you're already making me want to leave again, and I haven't even stepped foot into the pack yet."
Nolan ignored him and turned his attention back to me, and gestured to the man beside him. "This is my beta, Roan."
I remembered the man from the last time I came to the Silver Night. He didn't talk then, and I'm sure, to most, he would've been easily forgettable, but there was something about him that made me remember who he was. Nixon was the type of person who attention automatically turned to where Roan hid in the background. He blended in, or he tried to, at least.
"It's nice to meet you as well, Beta Roan," I greeted and offered my hand.
Roan stared at my hand before his eyes briefly shot over to Nolan, who gave him a subtle nod. Only then did he reach out with his own to clasp mine and shake it.
Nixon's eyes were honed in on Roan, and it made me curious. Who was Roan?
"Alright, that's enough introductions. Come on, Tatum," Nixon said as he began to walk, and I sighed.
"Nix, car."
He looked back at the vehicle as if it was the bane of his existence before making his way back to the car. Only, he didn't get back in the passenger's seat but instead in the driver's seat.
"Absolutely not."
Nixon shot me an offended glance. "Why the fuck not?"
"You and driving don't seem like they belong together, and personally, I'm not quite ready to die just yet Nix."
He scowled. "Really? Because it seems like you're begging for it if you ask me. Only, it won't be because of my driving."
I stared blankly at him. "Get out of my car."
"You don't know where you're going."
"You can give me directions. That's much safer than putting you behind the wheel."
"I can drive just fine."
"You said that about cooking too."
Nixon shot me a glare and opened his mouth to retort, but a cough ended our bickering. Nolan stared at us almost amusedly, and while I was distracted, Nixon quickly stepped out of the car to snatch the keys from my hand.
A smug expression took over his face. "Come on, don't you trust me?"
I stared at him for a few minutes before ultimately resigning with a sigh and begrudgingly walking to the passenger's side. I slid in and gave Nixon a side-eye.
"If you break my car, I'll send you to hell myself, Nixon," I warned.
He rolled his eyes. "Relax, it'll be fine."
The car purred as it came to life, and Nixon turned and shot me a grin—one that told me everything I needed to know:
This was not going to be fine.