Page 31 of In Doubt
“Most of the time,” she grins back. “Occasionally Jake nips me to that spot.”
“You like the competition?” I ask, noting the gleam in her eye.
“Urgh,” she says, seeming like she’s going to deny it. “Your friend–”
“Packmate,” I correct.
“Is a giant pain in the neck.”
My eyes automatically float back to her neck.
I flick my gaze away before she catches me looking.
“How about you?” she asks.
“How about me what?”
“Are you top of the class?”
I snort. “No, sports have always been my thing. I’ve never been that academic.”
“But you’re studying for a Masters?”
“Yep.” I study her. “Have you ever come to watch us play?”
Rugby’s huge at Crestmore. Bigger than football or any of the other sports put together. Every match sells out pulling all the townies into watch as well.
She flicks her finger against the opened tag of her can, a metallic sound ringing out. “Once.”
“Not a fan, then?” I smirk.
She squints up at me. “It was a bit much.” I frown, intrigued by that answer. “I guess you love playing it.”
I laugh. “Yep, more than anything else in the world. All the other boys wanted to be football stars. But my dad and my grandad, they were rugby fans. They had me in a pair of boots before I could walk, toddling along with a ball bigger than my head.”
“Awww,” she says. Then giggles.
“What?” I ask, shifting closer towards her on the wall.
“I can’t imagine you all small and tiny.”
“Oh yeah,” I say, perhaps flexing my biceps a little. Jake will wring my neck for flirting with this girl. But fuck it, I can’t help it. It’s that big encouraging smile of hers and her damn scent. She has me wanting to impress her, just so I can claim more of those smiles. “I was a pretty big baby too. You should see the photos. Looks like I ate all the other babies for lunch.”
She bursts out laughing, and I grin back at her, a stupid feeling of pride in my chest.
Jakey-boy only receives frowns from this girl. She’s beaming a ten watt smile my way.
“Your poor mum,” she says, swinging her legs slightly in her glee, her skin brushing ever so slightly against mine, making every nerve in my body alert. “Is she an omega?”
“Yep.”
“Evolution has got it all wrong. Asking pixies like me,” she points to herself. “To give birth to giants like you!”
“Omegas are hardier than they look,” I say, trying hard to keep the growl from my voice when she’s just planted an image of herself, belly rounded and ripe, in my head. “They can take a lot from us alphas.”
She blushes bright crimson at those words and rolls her eyes.
I chuckle, raising my palms in defence. “You brought up the topic, not me.”
