Page 22 of Take All of Me

“Yeah?” I say, folding my arms, bracing for whatever’s coming.

“You said to me in the locker room before practice that she needs someone like me,” he starts, “that you’d make sure everything goes smoothly between her and me, with Dakota and Roman.” I’m not sure where he’s going with this so I just let him continue. “But you didn’t include yourself in that. Why?” I open my mouth to answer—something about giving her space, not pushing—but he cuts me off, stepping closer. “You were the one who felt her, Holt. Not heard her. You felt her distress the moment she started running, because you left before she screamed. I opened the door and heard it. You’re hers.”

I sputter a laugh, caught off guard, scrubbing a hand over my jaw. “Brogan, I know you mean well,” I say, “but she’s not ready…” My words falter, because I see her in my mind—trembling in my arms, crawling into my lap, nose pressed to my scent gland like I was her anchor.

“She’s ready for this world to stop fucking around with her,” he growls at me. “She’s ready for someone to put her first. She’s ready for someone to show her that love isn’t the same as pain.” He pauses, exhaling hard, and I see it—the weight he carries for her, the memory of who she was. “I remember her four years ago,” he goes on. “She looked like she was gonna rule the goddamn world. That spark’s still there, but Nox dimmed her shine. I plan on bringing it back and I know you’re part of that.”

“You should be a motivational speaker,” I tease, deflecting from the real issue.

Brogan laughs, a quick burst that breaks the tension, but he’s not done. “She climbed intoyourlap, Holt. She ran right to you. It might take her some time to figure all this out, but I’d be stupid not to say something.”

I nod, letting out a heavy breath, because he’s right—she did, and I felt it, that pull, stronger than anything I’ve known. “I appreciate it. Let’s just get some food in her, see how it goes? Dakota’s not letting her go anywhere, but I’m sure Maya’s gonna fight us on that.”

Brogan grins, a flash of his usual charm returning. “And we’ll be there to counter whatever she needs.”

It seems like a solid plan, even if I’m still wary about stepping into the ring. She doesn’t seem to want another Alpha in her life even if she ran straight to me. And yet, I know that trying to stay away from her is just going to make things worse. “Yeah, I got you. I’ll be back in a little bit. Call me if she wakes up.” And then I just head down the hall, needing a moment to myself.

Maya

I wake up too warm, a sheen of sweat clinging to my skin, my heart hammering as I bolt upright in a panic. The room’s dim, campus lights filtering through the blinds, and I look down to see Dakota wrapped around me, his arm heavy across my waist. Roman’s on my other side, sprawled out, hogging most of the bed. Holt’s not here, but across the room, Brogan’s sitting up on the other bed, gaze firmly focused on the three of us.

I’m disoriented, embarrassment flooding me as the nightmare replays from earlier—Nox charging, his hand on my throat, me running naked through the rink’s hallway. My breath hitches as I swipe at my damp forehead, wishing I could erase it all.

Brogan moves quietly, climbing off the bed with a grace that doesn’t match his broad frame. He holds out a hand, a silent offer, and I hesitate before taking his hand and letting himguide me out from between them. Silently, he guides me to the door, helping me into my shoes, my body still swarmed by their clothes. No words pass between as we head down to the dorm’s main level, the hum of late-night campus life muted.

He leads me to the gym, a familiar space I haven’t seen in years, and I spot a punching bag hanging in the corner, worn from overuse. A sigh tumbles from me, a mix of relief and ache, because it’s not the first time Brogan and Dakota dragged me here—to work off steam after a professor’s unfair grade, to rage at a classmate’s betrayal, to feel something other than trapped. He hands me two gloves from one of the benches, and I take them, pausing as I meet his gaze. “Why aren’t you asking more questions?”

“Do I need to?” His eyes flick over me, lingering for a second on my scar before moving back to my face. “Maya, Nox should’ve never been on campus. He should’ve never been anywhere near the rink. He’s got an agenda, but that’shisproblem, not yours. Is there a question you’d like me to ask?”

I slip on the gloves, the Velcro loud in the quiet gym, the one secret I’ve never told anyone, not even Dakota clinging to me like dead weight. Ignoring his question, I focus on the bag in front of me, all that anger and fear bubbling up into my first punch. It’s a flimsy hit, the bag creaking on old chains but the next is harder, then harder still, fists slamming into leather as tears and anger mix, spilling out in gasps. Nox’s face flashes in my head and I hit faster, vision blurring, until my arms ache and my knees wobble from the effort.

Brogan’s there in an instant, pulling me back, his arms wrapping around me. “Hey, love,” he murmurs, voice soft against my hair, “breathe with me. There you go.” I shudder, sucking in air as he guides my breaths, until the panic ebbs. He kisses my forehead, a gentle press that feels like a promise, and leads me to the gym’s showers, the tiles cool under my feet. Hestops just outside one of the stalls, barely loosening his hold on me. “Tell me whatever’s eating you alive.”

I swallow, my throat tight, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “I didn’t have to have the removal surgery. I could’ve used creams, topical medicines to lessen the pull until it was just a scar, but I needed it out.” My hand drifts to my neck as I step away from him, fingers brushing the jagged mark hidden under the shirt. Brogan’s eyes soften, no judgment, just listening, and I shake my head, pressing on. “No, I took a knife to it, Brogan. That’s why it’s jagged. It would’ve healed fine by now. The surgery was to save my life.”

He steps closer, not crowding, just near enough to feel his warmth. “Did you think I’d judge you for that?” His head tilts slowly, raking over my face with a care that is foreign to me. “Maya, love, you are beautiful and precious and strong in ways you don’t even know. That Alpha put you through hell, terrorized you, used your feelings against you, and then had the audacity to think you’ll walk back into his arms. I have no idea what I’d have done in that situation, but I can tell you—you’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Because you’re standing here, right now, in front of me.”

I tremble, his words cracking something open. “But the scar…” It’s a weak protest, the shame I’ve carried too long, and he shakes his head, a small smile breaking through.

“Fuck the scar. Do you know what it tells me? That you’re a warrior, a survivor.” He steps closer, giving me time to pull away, and leans down, his lips brushing the scar on my shoulder, a tender kiss that sends a shudder through me—not fear, but something deeper, warmer, like coming home.

I look up at him, eyes burning with unshed tears, letting him see the vulnerability behind the mask.Allof it. “Stay.”

Brogan leans in, his breath warm against my lips as he kisses me again, soft at first, like he’s testing the waters. His hands findthe hem of Dakota’s oversized shirt, and he pauses, hazel eyes searching mine for permission. I nod, a small jerk of my head, and he slowly pulls the fabric up and over, exposing my skin to the gym’s cool air. Kicking off my shorts, I step into the shower, testing the water until it’s just right, Brogan shedding his shorts and moving into the stall behind me.

I sigh, leaning my head forward under the spray, water slipping over my shoulders, washing away the sweat, the nightmares, Nox’s shadow. Brogan’s lips find the side of my neck—the unscarred side—littering soft kisses along my skin, each one a quiet vow. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” His hands rest lightly on my hips, not demanding, just there, the tension in my chest loosening just a fraction.

A shuddering breath falls from my lips as he gently turns me around and then pulls me flush against him. It’s a stability I didn’t know I needed as I slide my arms over his shoulders, crossing them, one of my hands cupping the back of his neck. I need this, need to know I’m okay, that Nox didn’t get further, that I’m still whole. His lips move against mine, hungry but careful, and I open to him, tasting rain and something sweeter, something that’s purely Brogan. The kiss becomes urgent, Brogan walking me back until my spine meets the tiled wall, cool against my heated skin.

I moan softly as his hands slide to my waist, gripping gently, his cock hard and hot against my belly, a quiet reminder of his want. He pulls back, just enough to meet my eyes, water dripping from his lashes. “This only goes as far as you want it to. You need me to stop, you tell me. Neck’s off limits—anything else?” His care, his pause, undoes me, and I swallow, my throat tight with trust I haven’t felt in years.

“Don’t make it hurt,” I whisper, voice trembling, and his expression softens, a promise in his gaze.

“Love,” he purrs, leaning closer, “I’ll never hurt you. And I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure the world doesn’t either.” He kisses me again, hands roaming my back, my sides, learning me with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. I melt into him, water cascading around us, and let myself feel the safety he’s offering.

His hands slide lower, cupping the backs of my thighs, and he hoists me up, my legs wrapping around his hips on instinct. I gasp against his mouth, clinging tighter as he holds me there. “Okay?” he murmurs, and I nod, kissing him harder, needing more. He shifts, guiding himself to my entrance, and slides into me, filling me with a warmth that’s more than physical.

A moan tears from my throat as my head tips back against the wall, Brogan shallowly thrusting in and out of me as he buries his head in my chest. It’s messy, hurried, water splashing around us, but I need it—this connection, this proof I’m still here, still me. I hold onto him, nails biting into his shoulders, kissing him through gasps, our breaths mingling with the steam.

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