Page 113 of Eight Count Heat
The simple assurance, delivered with such confidence, makes me believe him despite the complexity of the situation.
"Well, I'll leave you lovebirds to finish getting ready," Beckett says, backing toward the door. "Gray wants everyone in thelobby in twenty minutes. Don't be late, or he'll probably come drag you out himself."
"We'll be there," Bo promises.
When Beckett leaves, a strange silence falls between us. The teasing made things real in a way our private bubble hadn't. The team knows. They heard. And they're planning for what comes next.
"Thank you," I say, meeting Bo's eyes. "For everything."
Bo's expression softens. "You don't need to thank me, Reese."
"I do, though." I step closer, needing him to understand. "You could have taken advantage. Could have claimed me when I was vulnerable. But you didn't. You gave me exactly what I needed without asking for anything in return."
He cups my face in his large hand, thumb tracing my cheekbone. "That's not entirely true."
"What do you mean?"
"I got something pretty remarkable in return." His eyes hold mine, serious now. "I got to see the real you. Not just the coxswain. Not just the Omega. You, Reese Callahan. And that's worth more than you might think."
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten. I lean into his touch, turning my face to press a kiss against his palm.
"We should go," I say, not trusting myself to respond to his words without revealing too much. "Gray hates tardiness."
Bo nods, understanding my retreat. "After you, Cox."
The return to my title, even teasingly delivered, helps shift us back toward our public roles. Coxswain and rower. Team members with a professional relationship.
Except nothing about our relationship feels professional anymore. We've crossed a line that can't be uncrossed, opened a door that can't be closed.
As we gather our bags and head for the door, I steal one last glance at the rumpled room behind us. For one night, it was a sanctuary. A place where designation and biology brought us together, but something else entirely kept us connected.
Now we face the world beyond—the team, the university, the complications that await us back at Sable Ridge. My heat isn't over, just temporarily sated. The suppressant situation remains unresolved. And the question of what happens between Bo and me, between me and the rest of the team, lingers unanswered.
chapter THIRTY-ONE
Eli
The sexual tensionin this lobby could power the entire hotel.
I'm sitting in a strategically chosen chair that gives me a clear view of the whole team while keeping Jackson in my peripheral vision. He's been wound tighter than a piano wire since yesterday, and watching him try to pretend Reese's presence doesn't affect him is like watching someone try to ignore a fire alarm.
Bo and Reese enter together, and even from across the room I can smell how their scents have mingled. They're not touching, but they might as well be wearing matching "we fucked all night" t-shirts. Bo walks with that loose, satisfied gait of a man who got exactly what he wanted, while Reese has that slightly flushed, well-used look that announces recent orgasms.
Good for them, honestly. Someone needed to help her through the worst of it.
Gray, standing by the check-out desk like he's conducting a military briefing, watches their approach with the kind of controlled neutrality that indicates he's absolutely losing his shit internally. The muscle in his jaw ticks twice before he catches himself.
Fascinating. Our fearless captain is jealous.
"Morning," Zane calls out with deliberate cheerfulness, because subtlety died sometime around freshman year with this crew. "Everyone sleep well?"
Beckett nearly chokes on his coffee. I shoot Zane a look that clearly saysshut the fuck upbut he ignores it completely. Tyler, bless his socially oblivious soul, actually responds with, "Sleep efficiency was approximately 87 percent. Acceptable parameters."
I love that kid. He's like a human calculator who occasionally remembers to eat.
Jackson keeps his eyes glued to his phone, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the careful way he's breathing to minimize scent intake. He's fighting every instinct right now, and it's costing him.
"Let's get this over with," Gray says, because apparently we're skipping pleasantries today.
