Page 41 of Altius
“Is it always like this?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“No. Today’s—not good.” Angling my head, I met his gaze. “So, stay with me. You can add bodyguard to your resume along with chauffeur.”
He nodded, redoubling his grip on my coat. “But I want something in return.”
Erratic tingles scraped against the inside of my ribcage.
It should be a straightforward request—Wyatt wasn’t like Joaquin, after all. He’d ask for something normal, like another pie or an audiobook download.
But the covetous haze ringing his irises unnerved me. His hold was too unyielding, his demeanor too forward.
Confident to the point of being formidable.
Like I had only ever seen him in competition. When he was determined to win.
Another round of whistles and flags resulted in a five-yard penalty against Garroway Forest—an automatic first down.
Wyatt took advantage of the momentary distraction to snake a hand up my side and around the back of my neck, removing my scarf with a swift tug.
“What are you—”
“Alpha repellent,” Wyatt said gruffly, yanking off his scarf.
He wrapped the overheated green wool around my neck. It was drenched with sweat, clinging to my bare skin, no doubt drenching me with his boxwood pheromones.
Scent marking me.
Wyatt Redmond scent marked me.
In front of eighty-five thousand people. On the sideline of a crucial football game, while I was on the clock. After we signed a legally binding fraternization addendum, attesting that he was nothing but a helpful driver for the next few weeks.
I couldn’t breathe—could scarcely think.
And I couldn’t even be mad with him because I’d already crossed the line with Cal earlier.
Distance. That was the only solution. It was too crowded to put more than an extra step between us, but I still tried.
“We’re in public.”
“I know,” Wyatt said, tugging on my pocket, pulling me against him again. “But you finally smell the way you should—likeus.”
I stared at his symmetrical features and dense brows, watching as his full lower lip morphed into a shit-eating grin and the ice in his gaze thawed.
How I wished we were alone so that I could tear into him without restraint.
Make him admit to his faults and apologize. Maybe kiss him into submission. Until he swore never to do anything so brainless in the future.
To never leave me again.
“Morgan!” Reyhan’s voice dispelled my irrational thoughts.
Suddenly remembering the urgency of our current situation, I reached down, forcing Wyatt to let me go.
We needed to get to the PheroPass tent. Now.
Taking a shuddering breath, which only seemed to knock me more off-balance, I shuffled backward. Wyatt didn’t hesitate to follow, invading my personal space.
This new, foreign persistence overwhelmed me—it almost felt like blatant pursuit.
