chapter THIRTEEN #2
"Call me 'lady fair' again and I'll make you do extra burpees at next practice," Reese says, sliding into the booth next to Tyler.
"Promises, promises," Beckett grins.
I take the last open spot next to Cameron, noting how his body tenses slightly when Reese sits directly across from him. His eyes track her movements with subtle attention that most would miss.
Very interesting.
"We ordered for you," Gray tells me. "Usual."
"And Callahan?" I ask.
"I can order for myself," she says, reaching for a menu.
"Already done," Gray says. "Egg white omelet, whole wheat toast, side of fruit. Black coffee."
She raises an eyebrow. "Assuming a lot there, Lockwood."
"Nutritionally optimal," he says. "And if memory serves, exactly what you ordered last time."
"Maybe I wanted something different today."
"Did you?"
Her lips press together, clearly annoyed at being so easily read. "No."
I hide a smile behind my water glass. For all their friction, Gray and Reese are more alike than either would admit. Both control freaks. Both perfectionists. Both using those traits to hide whatever's underneath.
"We need to discuss the Riverside Invitational," Gray says, pulling out his tablet. "It's in five days, and we need to finalize travel arrangements."
"Five days?" Reese's voice has an edge I can't quite place. Something close to alarm.
"Problem?" Gray asks.
"No." She composes herself quickly. "Just making sure I have the schedule right."
Gray swipes through screens on his tablet. "We'll load the equipment Thursday after practice, drive up Friday evening, and check into the hotel. Races start early Saturday morning, finals are Saturday afternoon if we qualify, which we will."
"Confident," Beckett comments.
"Realistic," Gray corrects. "Our times have improved significantly over the past week." He doesn't look at Reese when he says this, but the implication is clear.
"Hotel arrangements?" Eli asks.
"The coaches have their suites and we have four double rooms and a single for Reese," Gray says. "I'll email the room assignments later today."
Conversation shifts to race strategy, boat positioning, the competition we'll face.
I contribute where needed, but most of my attention is on the undercurrents.
The way Jackson tenses whenever Eli speaks.
How Reese keeps glancing at her watch, fingers drumming a nervous pattern on the table edge.
The slight flush that colors her cheeks when Cameron's gaze meets hers across the table.
The tiny smirk on his lips when she quickly looks away.
Our food arrives, temporarily halting conversation. I dig into my pancakes, watching as Gray passes Reese the coffee pot without being asked. She seems surprised by the gesture but accepts it with a nod.
"Did you hear about Westlake?" Beckett asks, drizzling syrup over his waffles. "Their stroke got suspended for doping. Right before regionals."
I notice how Reese's hand tightens around her fork.
"Their loss," Gray says dismissively. "They were our biggest competition."
"Still are," Tyler corrects. "I ran some numbers on their replacement stroke. He's only going to slow them down by maybe three percent. They're still going to be tough to beat."
"Who's their coxswain now?" Zane asks. "They replaced Marshall, right?"
"Andrea Sloan," Reese says quietly. "Senior. Good with strategy, not great in rough water."
"You know her?" I ask.
"We rowed together." She takes a sip of coffee. "Before I transferred."
"Any insights we can exploit?" Gray asks, ever tactical.
Something dark crosses Reese's face. "She follows traditional patterns. Likes to push early, then coast on momentum. If you make her deviate from her plan, she gets flustered."
"Noted." Gray actually looks impressed. "Anything else?"
"She's close with Kinsley Adams," Reese adds. "They trained together last summer at Olympic development camp."
Gray's expression sours at the mention of his ex. "Irrelevant."
"Is it?" Reese challenges. "Because Kinsley seems to think I'm the reason you broke up with her, and Andrea will back whatever play she makes."
The table falls silent. Gray stares at Reese, jaw tight.
"Kinsley's personal issues have nothing to do with Riverside," he finally says. "And for the record, we broke up because she wanted an Alpha power couple more than she wanted me."
"Pretty sure she's still working that angle," Beckett mutters.
"Drop it," Gray snaps.
I step in to steer the conversation to safer topics. "Callahan, what's your take on the course at Riverside? You raced it with Westlake last year, right?"
She accepts the change of subject with visible relief. "Yes. It's tricky. Strong cross-current about 750 meters in, then a tight turn at 1500. Most crews lose time there."
"Any suggestions?" I prompt.
For the next twenty minutes, Reese breaks down the Riverside course with the meticulousness of someone who's analyzed every meter.
The team listens attentively, even Gray setting aside his tablet to focus on her insights.
It's moments like these when her value to the team is most obvious.
Her experience. Her strategic mind. Her ability to command attention without relying on Alpha dominance.
As breakfast wraps up, Gray assigns final preparation tasks for Riverside. Extra erg sessions. Video review of previous races. Equipment checks.
"One more thing," he says as we prepare to leave. "Team dinner at the house tonight. 7 PM. Mandatory."
"What's the occasion?" Beckett asks.
"Team bonding," Gray says. "Coach's orders."
I catch the slight twitch in his left eye. Gray's telling a half-truth at best. Coach Bennett is big on team chemistry, but he rarely mandates specific activities.
"I'll make my grandmother's jambalaya," I offer. Cooking for the team is my way of contributing beyond the boat. My own version of team glue.
"I have a late lab," Tyler says.
"7:30 for you then," Gray concedes.
"I might have plans—" Beckett begins.
"Cancel them," Gray cuts him off. "Everyone attends. Including you, Callahan."
Reese looks like she wants to argue but thinks better of it. "Fine."
We disperse for morning classes. I fall into step beside Cameron as we head toward the parking lot, surprised when he doesn't immediately peel off on his own path as usual.
"Blake," I acknowledge.
He nods, eyes forward.
"Didn't expect to see you at breakfast," I comment. "Not usually your scene."
He shrugs, a minimal movement of his un-inked shoulder. The one without the scars.
"Team dinner tonight too. You coming?"
Another nod.
I study him from the corner of my eye. "Any particular reason for this sudden team spirit?"
His gaze shifts briefly to where Reese walks ahead with Tyler, the two deep in conversation about something. So brief most wouldn't catch it.
But I'm not most people.
"Ah," I say, understanding blooming. "That's how it is."
Cameron gives me a warning look that would intimidate someone who hadn't known him for three years.
I hold up my hands. "None of my business."
"No, it's not," he says, and peels off toward the motorcycle parking area.
I watch him go, pieces clicking into place. Cam's interest in Reese. Her nervous glances at him during breakfast. Something happened between them.
I find my truck and climb in, mind working through the implications.
Gray's territorial behavior. Eli and Jackson's tension.
Tyler's unusual attention to Reese. Cam's unexpected presence at team gatherings.
And Reese at the center, seemingly unaware of the effect she's having on a boatful of Alphas.
Or maybe not unaware. Maybe just focused on something else entirely.
I remember her reaction to the mention of Riverside being five days away. The alarm in her voice before she masked it. The frequent glances at her watch. The way she scanned the area outside her dorm.
Reese Callahan is carrying something heavy. Something beyond the normal pressure of being the first female coxswain on an elite men's crew.
As I drive to my anthropology class, I make a decision. Whatever's going on, I'll keep watching. Keep noticing. And if necessary, step in before things fall apart.
Because that's my real job on this team. Not just rowing, not just being the "mother hen." My job is making sure everyone gets across the finish line in one piece.
Even if some of them seem determined to capsize along the way.