Page 3 of In Deep
“Come with me, Omega. And I’ll fucking rut your brains out.”
Yeah, I’ve heard that plenty.
However, this time, my skin doesn’t crawl in the way it usually does when I feel myself being watched. I sniff the air subtly, my attention fixed on the textbook in front of me. A hint of cinnamon flavouring the air. Something nice, interesting, but far too faint for me to get a real hold of it. Just a teasing taste.
I turn my page, running my finger down the neatly typed text, pretending to study the content. Then I flick my gaze up.
This time, I catch my observer red-eyed. For a fraction of a second, my eyes lock with a pair of emerald ones before they dart away.
Ha. I fucking caught him. Perhaps now the pervert will be ashamed enough to stop his staring. Except, almost immediately, his eyes return to mine, and he holds my gaze. A smile that dimples his cheeks spreads across his face, and it’s my cheeks that flush as I drop my gaze back to my book.
It’s him. The alpha I knocked off his feet two weeks ago. I haven’t seen him since our encounter on the staircase, although I’ve thought of him. His scent. His emerald eyes.
I lean closer to my friend, Sophia, beside me.
“Don’t look,” I whisper, trying my best not to move my lips, “but who’s that guy straight ahead, about two tables away?”
Sophia knows everyone, not just in our faculty, but across the whole college and probably the city too. She also knows everything they are doing. I’m constantly amazed by the endless numbers of people who stop and say hi to her as we rush to lectures or head out to a nightclub. I suppose it’s because, unlike my grubby, comprehensive background, Sophia went to the most exclusive private school in the country. The school is known to pump out Prime Ministers and billionaires. How we ended up friends, I’m still not sure. She took a shine to me on my first day here and placed me firmly beneath her wing.
Sophia ignores my instruction, and lifts her head to stare straight ahead.
“Why?” she asks me. I want to tug on her arm so that she stops staring, but Sophia doesn’t understand the concept of subtlety. She doesn’t need to. Rich betas can look where they like without ramifications.
“I just want to know,” I hiss.
“Zane Amir. ”
She turns to address me and I raise an eyebrow. Of course, I don’t know who he is.
“Honestly, Rosie, sometimes I think you exist in this clueless bubble. How can you not know who he is? He’s one ofThe Crew.”
I stare at her blankly. Is that meant to mean something to me?
“The Crestmore Crew, the varsity rowing team. Please tell me you’ve heard of the boat race? The one held every summer between the top colleges? It’s huge. The colleges invest loads in their teams, where winning is more important to them than their damn academics and research.”
“Yes, I know about the boat race.” Not that I’ve ever watched it on TV. Whereas no doubt Sophia spends every race on the banks of the Thames, sipping expensive champagne. Rowing is one of those posh sports that only people with money can afford.
I shrug and drop my eyes back to my textbook. Members of the rowing team are treated like football players or pop stars in this college. Why one has taken up staring at me is anyone’s guess.
Sophia nudges me with her shoulder. “Do you like him?”
I can hear the tease in her voice. She’s been trying to set me up ever since we met. She seems obsessed with getting me laid, says I should live a little. But I don’t need that distraction. This college is my ticket to brighter and better things. Men and sex are a distraction I can’t afford. Not that I’ve had much luck with either.
“He’s an alpha, you know,” Sophia adds.
“Yes, I know,” I say in a bored voice, scribbling in my notebook.
“And he’s coming this way.”
“What?!” My eyes jump up to find Zane strolling towards our desks. I let out a squeak of alarm and rearrange my book.
“Hi,” he says as he reaches us, flashing us both with his charming smile.
“Hi Zane,” Sophia pipes up, kicking me under the table. “How are things?”
“Alright, considering.”
“Considering what?”
