chapter FIVE #2
Inside, the air conditioned coolness carries the scent of old books and fresh coffee from the café in the corner. Gray leads me to a study area in the back, far from windows and prying eyes.
"Wait here," he commands, then disappears into the stacks.
I take the opportunity to steady myself, focusing on slow, even breaths. The techniques I've practiced for years to manage stress when suppressants aren't enough.
Gray returns with a tablet and headphones. "Here," he says, sliding into the chair beside me. "Race footage from Riverside last year. Their course is tricky."
For the next twenty minutes, we analyze race strategy, our heads bent close together over the tablet. Gray's analytical mind impresses me despite myself. He sees patterns I miss, calculates split times in his head, remembers the names and strengths of every competitor.
"You should call for power here," he says, pointing to a bend in the river. "Current gets tricky."
"I'd rather save it for the straightaway after. More bang for our buck."
He considers this, then nods. "Could work. We'll try both in practice."
The casual "we" sends an unexpected warmth through me. For a moment, it feels like we're just coxswain and stroke, planning strategy. No Alpha-Beta tension. No secrets.
"Gray!" a female voice calls across the library, shattering the moment.
Kinsley approaches our table, all smiles now. Her crew flanks her like perfectly matched bookends.
"Gray," she purrs, ignoring me completely. "I thought I'd find you here. Always studying." She places a hand on his shoulder, fingers curling possessively.
Gray stiffens but doesn't remove her hand. "Kinsley."
"We need to talk about the spring formal," she says. "Mother's asking which of your suits you'll be wearing so she can coordinate the flowers."
Gray's expression hardens. "I told you I'm not going."
"Don't be silly," she laughs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Of course you are. It's tradition. Alpha legacy families always attend together."
"I'm busy that weekend. Training."
Her eyes flick to me for the first time. "I'm sure your little cox can spare you for one night. It's just a few weeks away."
"It's a critical training weekend," I say, unable to help myself. "We have time trials."
Kinsley's smile turns glacial. "I don't believe I was talking to you."
"She's right," Gray says, voice even. "Time trials. All weekend."
"You can't be serious." Kinsley's scent spikes with anger. Even through my suppressants, I can detect the sharp citrus of her frustration. "You'd miss the biggest social event of the year for practice?"
"For the team," he corrects. "For winning."
"You know what? Fine." She removes her hand from his shoulder. "Bring her if you must. Legacy families are allowed plus-ones."
The suggestion hangs in the air, absurd and unexpected.
"Kinsley," Gray sighs. “This isn’t about Reese.”
No one misses the fact that he used my first name and not my last. Kinsley narrows her eyes at me just a fraction before continuing.
"No, really. If she's so important to the team" (she makes air quotes with her fingers) "then she should understand our traditions. All the top rowing families will be there."
I sit perfectly still, caught in the crossfire of something I don't fully understand and really don’t care to.
"I'm not bringing anyone," Gray says firmly. "I'm not attending."
Kinsley's face flushes with anger. "Your father won't be pleased."
"My father is rarely pleased. I've learned to live with it."
The standoff continues for another tense moment before Kinsley's fake smile returns. "We'll discuss this later. In private." She turns to go, then pauses to look at me. "Enjoy your... strategy session."
The trio leaves as dramatically as they arrived. Gray's shoulders remain tight, his scent clouded with tension.
"Sorry about that," he mutters.
"Legacy family?" I ask.
"Four generations of Sable Ridge rowers." His voice is flat. "All Alphas. All champions."
"No pressure then."
A surprised laugh escapes him, quickly stifled. "None whatsoever."
I close the tablet. "So what's this spring formal?"
"Annual tradition. Wealthy families showing off their perfect Alpha children to other wealthy families with perfect Alpha children. Arranged bonds have been known to result."
"Sounds medieval."
"It is." He runs a hand through his dark hair. "My father expects me to attend. Preferably with a suitable Alpha or Beta female from a good family."
"Like Kinsley."
"Exactly like Kinsley." His jaw tightens. "Her father and mine are business partners. They've been pushing us together since freshman year."
"But you broke up."
"I ended things after winter break. She's still in denial."
I study him, this Alpha who seems both part of his privileged world and somehow separate from it. "Why tell me all this?"
His gray eyes meet mine. "Because she'll try to use you. To get to me. To create friction in the team."
"I can handle Kinsley Adams."
"I know you can." He closes his books. "But now you understand what you're handling."
We gather our things in silence. As we exit the library, Gray keeps his tall frame between me and the direction Kinsley disappeared. Protective behavior. Alpha instinct.
"I won't destroy your team dynamics," I say as we reach my next class building. "If that's what you're worried about."
Gray looks down at me, steel eyes unreadable. "That's not what I'm worried about."
"Then what are you worried about?"
For a moment, I think he might actually answer. Instead, he takes a step back, putting careful distance between us.
"Practice at four," he says, his professional mask firmly back in place. "Don't be late."
I walk away, leaving him with whatever questions he wants to ask. The weight of his stare follows me until I disappear into the crowd of students, but I keep my shoulders squared, my pace steady.
Whatever storm I'm weathering, I'll weather it alone. It's safer that way.