Page 25 of Eight Count Heat
My muscles tense. "Why would it be?"
"Because you've been wound tighter than Gray's ass since she arrived." He sits up, draping his arms over his knees. His analytical mind never stops working, even now. "And because your shoulder was fine until she pointed it out."
"She doesn't know what she's talking about," I mutter, pulling on my shirt.
"Her technique adjustment worked though, didn't it?" Eli watches me closely. "I saw your power numbers on the erg."
I don't answer, which is answer enough.
"You know," he continues, "for someone who claims to ignore her, you spent the entire practice watching her."
"I watch all coxswains. Professional interest."
Eli snorts. "Right. And I solve differential equations for fun." He reaches for his own clothes. "Something about her sets you off. What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing named Meredith, maybe?"
"Don't."
Eli's expression softens. "It was three years ago, Jackson. Not every Omega is going to—"
"She's a Beta," I snap.
"Is she? Because sometimes the way you look at her..." He pauses. "I've never seen anyone so careful about physical distance. Have you noticed she stays at least five feet from every Alpha on the team?"
"So she values personal space. Smart girl."
"Maybe." Eli pulls on a t-shirt. "Or maybe there's something she doesn't want us to smell."
My mind flashes to that brief moment on the water, the hint of something sweet beneath the neutralizing soap. A scent that bypassed my brain and went straight to my gut.
"You're imagining things," I say, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"For a run."
"It's getting dark."
"I have good night vision."
Eli sighs. "Jackson. Whatever you're running from, it'll still be there when you get back."
I pause, hand on the doorknob. "Not running from anything."
"Liar," he says softly. But he doesn't try to stop me.
Outside, the campus is settling into evening quiet. I set off at a punishing pace, letting physical exertion drown out thought. Past the academic buildings, around the stadium, down toward the lake path.
I don't think about Callahan. About the way she commands a boat full of Alphas like she was born to it. About the hint of a scent that shouldn't bother me but does.
I don't think about Meredith. About bonds formed and broken. About trust betrayed.
I run until my lungs burn and my legs tremble, until there's nothing in my head but the rhythm of feet against pavement and the sound of my own breathing.
But even then, I can't outrun the certainty that grows with each step: Reese Callahan is hiding something. And whatever it is, it's going to cause problems I'm not ready to face again.
