Page 17 of Eight Count Heat
"Four generations of Sable Ridge rowers." His voice is flat. "All Alphas. All champions."
"No pressure then."
A surprised laugh escapes him, quickly stifled. "None whatsoever."
I close the tablet. "So what's this spring formal?"
"Annual tradition. Wealthy families showing off their perfect Alpha children to other wealthy families with perfect Alpha children. Arranged bonds have been known to result."
"Sounds medieval."
"It is." He runs a hand through his dark hair. "My father expects me to attend. Preferably with a suitable Alpha or Beta female from a good family."
"Like Kinsley."
"Exactly like Kinsley." His jaw tightens. "Her father and mine are business partners. They've been pushing us together since freshman year."
"But you broke up."
"I ended things after winter break. She's still in denial."
I study him, this Alpha who seems both part of his privileged world and somehow separate from it. "Why tell me all this?"
His gray eyes meet mine. "Because she'll try to use you. To get to me. To create friction in the team."
"I can handle Kinsley Adams."
"I know you can." He closes his books. "But now you understand what you're handling."
We gather our things in silence. As we exit the library, Gray keeps his tall frame between me and the direction Kinsley disappeared. Protective behavior. Alpha instinct.
"I won't destroy your team dynamics," I say as we reach my next class building. "If that's what you're worried about."
Gray looks down at me, steel eyes unreadable. "That's not what I'm worried about."
"Then what are you worried about?"
For a moment, I think he might actually answer. Instead, he takes a step back, putting careful distance between us.
"Practice at four," he says, his professional mask firmly back in place. "Don't be late."
I walk away, leaving him with whatever questions he wants to ask. The weight of his stare follows me until I disappear into the crowd of students, but I keep my shoulders squared, my pace steady.
Whatever storm I'm weathering, I'll weather it alone. It's safer that way.
chapter SIX
Zane
Ispot Reese themoment she walks into Advanced Composition. She's easy to find, a small figure in a sea of Sable Ridge giants, her dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail that's starting to come loose after a day of classes. She hasn't noticed me yet, scanning the lecture hall with those alert blue-green eyes that usually don't miss much.
"Cox!" I call out, waving like an idiot until she sees me. "Saved you a seat!"
Several heads turn, and I catch a few curious looks. Word travels fast at Sable Ridge, and our new female coxswain is prime gossip material. Reese hesitates for just a second before making her way up the tiered seating to where I've saved a spot beside me.
"Hollis," she says, sliding into the chair. "Didn't know you were in this class."
"Every athlete's favorite English requirement," I grin. "Professor Winters never takes attendance and grades on a generous curve."
