CHAPTER ELEVEN
Beckett
Sunday afternoons are supposed to be for recovery. Light stretching, maybe some easy cardio, definitely day drinking if you can get away with it. What they're not supposed to be for is hiding from the pheromone cocktail that our house has become.
"I need air," Gray announces after breakfast at The Griddle, where we all pretended everything was normal while Reese sat there smelling like Zane and sexual satisfaction.
"Same," I agree immediately. "Walk?"
He nods, and we head toward downtown without discussing it. Away from campus. Away from the house. Away from the overwhelming scent of Reese-plus-Zane that's making everyone twitchy.
"This is getting complicated," I say once we're clear of other students.
"It's been complicated since day one," Gray responds, hands shoved in his pockets.
"Yeah, but now it's..." I search for the right word. "Accelerating."
Gray doesn't respond, but his jaw tightens. He knows I'm right.
We end up at Riggs Coffee, the overpriced place that caters to trust fund kids and professors having affairs with grad students. It's usually safe from team drama on Sundays since most college students can't afford eight-dollar lattes.
Of course, the universe has other plans.
"Gray! Beckett!"
I turn to see Kinsley Adams approaching with her usual entourage - Olivia and Madison, the unholy trinity of the women's rowing team. They're dressed like they just came from yoga or pilates or whatever excuse they use to wear athletic wear that costs more than my textbooks.
"Ladies," I say with my trademark grin, though internally I'm calculating exit strategies.
"Haven't seen you around lately, Beckett," Kinsley says, sidling up to our table without invitation. "You used to be at every party."
"Season's getting serious," I deflect. "You know how it is."
"Mmm, I do." She turns her attention to Gray, and something shifts in her expression. Softer. More dangerous. "Hi, Gray."
"Kinsley."
The temperature drops about ten degrees. Madison and Olivia exchange looks, clearly enjoying the drama.
"Mind if we join you?" Kinsley asks, but she's already sliding into the booth next to Gray, close enough that their thighs touch. "We were just talking about the Spring Formal. You boys have dates yet?"
"Haven't thought about it," Gray says stiffly.
"Really?" Kinsley leans closer, her hand landing on his thigh. "Because I heard your team's been very focused on... bonding activities lately."
The word 'bonding' carries weight. Threat.
Madison slides in next to me, her perfume aggressively floral. "Beckett, you've been so scarce. I was starting to think you'd taken a vow of celibacy."
"Just focused on rowing," I say, trying to inch away without being obvious.
"Since when has that stopped you?" Olivia asks, perching on the arm of the booth. "Last year you were hooking up with a different girl every weekend."
"People change."
"Do they?" Kinsley's practically in Gray's lap now, her fingers tracing patterns on his forearm. "Or do they just get distracted by shiny new toys?"
Gray's whole body is rigid, but he can't shake her off without making a scene. Can't push her away without raising questions about why he's suddenly not interested in his ex who's practically throwing herself at him.
"We were so good together, Gray," she murmurs, loud enough for all of us to hear. "Remember that weekend at my parents' place in the Hamptons? You couldn't keep your hands off me."
I watch Gray's control crack slightly. His knuckles are white where his hands grip his coffee cup.
"That was a long time ago," he says carefully.
"Six months isn't that long." She shifts even closer, basically straddling his thigh now. "Unless something's changed? Someone new?"
"There's no one," he lies.
"Good." She smiles, predatory. "Then you can take me to Spring Formal. Like old times."
Madison's hand lands on my arm. "You could take me, Beckett. We'd have fun."
"I don't think—"
"Come on," Olivia interrupts. "It's not like you're seeing anyone. Unless..." She pauses dramatically. "Unless the rumors are true?"
"What rumors?" I keep my voice casual, but my pulse kicks up.
"That your whole team is wrapped around your new coxswain's finger. Or should I say... other parts?"
Kinsley laughs, the sound sharp. "Don't be crude, Liv. I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation for why eight Alphas suddenly can't function without their little female cox."
The way she says 'little female cox' makes it clear she knows. Maybe not everything, but enough.
"We should go," Gray says abruptly.
"So soon?" Kinsley pouts, her hand sliding higher on his thigh. "But we're having such a nice time. Just like we used to."
"Kinsley—"
"I miss you, Gray." She says it loud enough for half the coffee shop to hear. "I miss us. Don't you?"
This is a performance. She's marking territory, making a public claim. And Gray can't reject her without explaining why.
"We broke up for a reason," he says carefully.
"We broke up because you're stubborn and I'm prideful," she counters. "But that doesn't mean we weren't good together. Great, even."
Her hand moves to his chest, fingers splaying possessively. "Remember how good we were? How perfectly we fit?"
Gray catches her wrist, but gently. Too gently. Like he's afraid of what will happen if he shows how much he wants her gone.
"Kinsley, stop."
"Why?" She leans in, lips near his ear but voice carrying. "Is there someone else? Someone who wouldn't want to see us together?"
She knows. She absolutely knows.
"There's no one," Gray repeats, but his voice is strained.
"Prove it." She shifts to face him fully, one leg over his lap now. "Kiss me."
The coffee shop is watching. Half the lacrosse team just walked in. Camera phones are probably already out.
Gray looks at me, and for the first time since I've known him, I see panic in his eyes.
"Kinsley," I intervene, "maybe this isn't—"
"I'm not talking to you, Beckett," she says without looking at me. "I'm talking to my ex-boyfriend who claims he's single but won't even kiss me."
Gray's jaw clenches. He's trapped. Kiss her and betray whatever's building with Reese. Refuse and confirm every suspicion about our team dynamics.
"One kiss," Kinsley says softly. "For old times' sake. Unless there's a reason you can't?"
Gray moves so fast I barely track it. He stands, physically lifting Kinsley off his lap and setting her aside. Not rough, but firm.
"We're done here," he says flatly.
"Gray—"
"We're done, Kinsley. We've been done. Stop this."
He walks out, leaving me with three very interested women and a coffee shop full of witnesses.
"Well," Madison says after a beat. "That was interesting."
"Very," Kinsley agrees, standing and smoothing her yoga pants. "Beckett, you should probably go after him. Wouldn't want him doing anything... impulsive."
The threat is subtle but clear.
I throw money on the table and leave without responding. Gray is two blocks away, pacing like a caged animal.
"That was subtle," I say.
"Fuck off."
"She knows something."
"She knows enough." He runs both hands through his hair, messing it up for the first time I can remember. "She's going to use this. The Spring Formal thing was just the opening move."
"You could have kissed her. Quick peck, no big deal."
Gray turns on me, and the look in his eyes is almost feral. "Could you? Could you kiss someone else when you can still smell Reese on your clothes? When you know she's back at the house probably curled up with Zane? When you're so fucking close to claiming her that your teeth ache with it?"
I step back, surprised by the vehemence. "Jesus, Gray."
"I can't..." He stops, visibly pulling himself together. "I can't pretend anymore. Not with Kinsley, not with anyone. I'm halfway to mated with someone I can't have, who's fucking other members of our team, who doesn't even know what she's doing to us."
"She knows," I say quietly. "After last night with Zane, she has to know."
"Does she? Or is she just taking what she needs from whoever offers?" His voice is bitter. "Bo, Zane, probably Jackson and Eli next. Working through the team like a—"
"Don't." I cut him off sharply. "Don't say something you can't take back."
He deflates slightly. "I know. I know she's not... I know it's more than that. But watching her with them, smelling them on her, knowing I can't..."
"Can't what?"
"Can't claim her. Can't mark her. Can't make her mine in the way that matters." He looks at me, and for the first time since I've known Gray Lockwood, he looks lost. "What are we going to do, Beckett?"
"I don't know."
"We're going to lose everything. The team, our season, our futures. All because we can't control ourselves around one Omega."
"She's not just an Omega," I point out. "She's Reese."
"That makes it worse." He slumps against a brick wall. "If she was just any Omega, we could manage. But she's... she's ours. All of ours. And that's not possible. Not in any way that doesn't destroy us."
We stand there in silence for a moment, watching normal people have normal Sunday afternoons.
"Kinsley's not going to stop," I say eventually.
"No."
"She'll escalate."
"Yes."
"So what do we do?"
Gray looks at me, and for the first time in four years of rowing together, our captain says: "I don't fucking know."
The admission hangs between us, heavier than any weight we've pulled. Gray always knows. Always has a plan. Always maintains control.
But control is slipping, and we both know it.
"We should get back," he says finally. "Make sure the others haven't done anything stupid."
"Like what?"
"Like anything that makes what's happening more obvious than it already is."
We walk back toward campus, but the damage is done. Kinsley played her hand, and we played ours. She knows Gray's compromised. Knows the team is protecting something.
It's only a matter of time before she figures out exactly what.
"Beckett," Gray says as we near the house.
"Yeah?"
"When this falls apart - and it will fall apart - I need you to keep the team together."
"Gray—"
"Promise me. When I can't lead anymore, when I'm too compromised to think straight, promise you'll step up."
I've never wanted responsibility. Never wanted to be the guy others depend on. That's Gray's job, Bo's job. I'm just the charming one who makes people laugh.
But looking at him now, seeing the cracks in his perfect control, I nod.
"I promise."
He nods back, and we head inside where the air is thick with pheromones and impending disaster.
What a fucking fantastic weekend.