I gulp down the giant glass of ice water in front of me, finally accepting the caffeine is doing little more than give me the shakes and hoping to freeze myself into alertness instead.
Wes sits down beside me and if I thought my plate was stacked high, it's a miniature model to his.
"I don't think there is a rule about going back" I mutter low enough I hope our conversation is just between us.
"There isn't" Wes nods before gesturing around the table, "but the good stuff is usually gone".
After a quick glance around I scoff "The food bill for this place must be astronomical".
"It is" Wes shrugs and at my curious glance he explains "last year mum made me learn all about the budgeting of the pack, including how to plan, budget and execute the perfect ball. And yes, it is exactly as pain
