Page 115 of Eight Count Heat
The meeting breaks up, and I watch the resulting chaos with academic interest. Gray texts me to meet him after we eat, probably to discuss strategy. As I move, I keep my attention on the others. Jackson makes a beeline for the exit, clearly needing space from Reese's pheromones. Tyler immediately pulls out hisphone, probably researching Omega biology with the same focus he brings to split times.
Bo murmurs something to Reese that makes her smile, a soft, unguarded expression I haven't seen before. It transforms her whole face, makes her look younger, less burdened.
Something tugs in my chest at the sight. Not jealousy exactly, but recognition. Whatever's happening between them is real in a way I don’t think anyone is ready for, especially them.
"Interesting developments," Cameron says, appearing beside me with his usual silent-ninja routine.
"That's one word for it." I watch as Bo and Reese head toward the restaurant. "Think they'll figure it out?"
"Eventually. Once they get past the bullshit."
Cameron has a point. Gray thinks everything is a competition, even things that aren't his to win. And Bo, for all his protective instincts, is going to have to learn to share.
"You knew from the beginning too," I observe. "Just like Jackson, Tyler, and me."
Cameron shrugs. "Wasn't exactly subtle once you knew what to look for."
There's something in his tone that makes me want to dig deeper, but Cameron Blake doesn't do personal revelations. Fair enough. We all have our secrets.
The restaurant is typical hotel continental breakfast fare with pastries that taste like cardboard, coffee that could strip paint, and runny scrambled eggs. I load my plate anyway and claim a seat with a good view of the whole table.
The seating arrangement is telling. Gray at the head, naturally. Bo and Reese across from each other instead of side by side, which fools absolutely no one. Jackson sits next to me, not because of our situationship but because it’s as far as he can get from Reese while still being with the group.
Zane slides in next to Reese and immediately starts his golden retriever routine, making her laugh despite everything. Kid's got a gift for defusing tension.
I watch my teammates with the detached fascination of a behavioral scientist:
Gray, stealing glances at Reese when he thinks no one's looking. Bo, radiating quiet possession without being obvious about it. Beckett, flirting on autopilot while tracking every interaction. Tyler, taking mental notes with scientific detachment. Cameron, seemingly disinterested but missing nothing. Jackson, hyperaware of every sound Reese makes.
It's like watching a nature documentary.Here we observe the Alpha pack in their natural habitat, demonstrating complex mating behaviors while pretending to discuss rowing technique.
Everyone tries their best to act normal through the rest of breakfast. We rehash the race, critique our performance, discuss the look on our competitors' faces when we blew past them. Standard team talk that carefully avoids the obvious topic.
When Gray stands to give final instructions, his voice is softer when he addresses Reese directly. "If you start feeling uncomfortable during the drive, tell someone. We'll figure something out."
The consideration catches everyone by surprise, Reese most of all.
"Thank you," she says, and there's genuine gratitude in her voice.
Twenty minutes later, we're loading the bus. I notice how everyone gives Reese space, careful not to crowd her as we board. Instinctive Alpha behavior around an unbonded Omega, complicated by the fact that she's carrying Bo's scent.
I claim my usual seat and pull out a book, but I'm really watching Jackson. He chooses a spot as far from Reese as possible, shoulders rigid with tension. This is going to be a long three hours.
As the bus pulls away from the hotel, I can't help but calculate the variables ahead of us. An Omega in the middle of her heat cycle. Eight unmated Alphas. University policies that could destroy everything if this gets out. And somehow, we're supposed to navigate this mess while maintaining team cohesion and competitive performance.
The mathematical probability of this ending well is approximately zero.
But then I glance at Reese, now sleeping peacefully against Zane's shoulder, and see the protective way Bo watches over her from the next row back. I see Cameron's quiet acceptance, Tyler's clinical problem-solving, even Gray's careful consideration.
Maybe the math doesn't matter. Maybe this team, this ridiculous, loyal, stubborn collection of Alphas, is going to prove that some things can't be calculated.
Either way, it's going to be interesting as hell to watch.
chapter THIRTY-TWO
Gray
My phone startsbuzzing the moment we pull into the Sable Ridge parking lot.
