Chapter 31
chapter
thirty-one
Later, there will be plenty of time to hate myself for not trusting my instincts sooner.
This week, two months ago, last year… my Alpha’s been trying to tell me all along how wrong this was.
Why didn’t I listen? Why didn’t I trust myself?
But, like I said, I’ll have lots of time to reflect on my failure.
Right now, I’m going to fix it .
Dante follows me into the tunnels. That’s new, too—any of the guys listening to me. Following my lead. So is the way our teammates scrambled to clear a path for me.
I’m not all that surprised, though. If I met me at this moment, I’m sure I’d get the hell out of my way, too.
When the crowd started heckling Bridget, something in my center snapped . And I’m not sure I want to reverse it.
The impulses roiling inside me feel good . Right . Even stronger than the absolute certainty I experienced when Dante, Colt, and I originally became a pack. Better than the relief when we found Adrian.
Jesus, what have I been doing ? Letting her think every moment of kindness is part of some scheme ? I’ve known Bridget was everything a guy could ever want since high school, and it’s taken this for me to stop and realize I’ve never told her?
I stuff down my self-loathing and focus on external rage. Toward the crowd. My jackass teammates. Bridget’s bitch of a big sister. Our whole stupid, messed-up society—so quick to believe she’s not really ours because she works in a humble, noble profession and isn’t a size two.
Dante gets more amped with every step, as well. I feel his Alpha’s fury blazing hotter and higher. Leaving a trail of scorched earth behind us as we stalk down the halls.
I’m not sure how I know where to go. More instincts I’ve been ignoring, probably. More proof I’ve been an idiot.
We’re both seething with outrage when we round the final corner. Our locker room comes into view, along with Colt’s tall, dark-haired figure… and our omega’s gloriously curvy one.
Her face is coated in dried tears and smeared makeup. The second her head snaps up, her rosebud lips drop open in shock.
I can barely process why. But then I realize—she probably had no expectation of us coming after her. Why would we miss half of our first training game for our fake fiancée ?
Colt, at least, doesn’t seem the least bit thrown. His expression is full of vehemence and lined with regret, but he doesn’t so much as lift an eyebrow when he sees us. Instead, he steps to the side, away from Bridget. Making room.
Because I’m coming right for her.
She squeaks when I snap her into my arms, lifting her feet off the floor. My chest rattles, purring.
The feeling is euphoric. Bright, tingling bliss fights back the thunderclouds suffocating my lungs. I cup her head, guiding it to the base of my throat. When I realize I’m still wearing my batting glove, I rip at the Velcro with my teeth and toss it aside.
My hand flies back to Bridget’s crown. Her loose red curls slip though my fingers like silk, warm and smooth.
Our omega breathes hard against my neck, her frame and face still frozen from the same disbelief I noticed before. But that only has me hugging her harder, banding an arm at the small of her back.
She starts to tremble. My purr deepens. “Shh,” I soothe. “God, bumblebee. I’m so sorry .”
She doesn’t reply, but her exhales come faster and harder. Colt pivots to face us, stepping closer to our sides while Dante presses his chest to her back.
Without a speck of hesitation, our shortstop slips his hands under her skirt and grips her thighs, lifting her until she can wrap her legs around my waist. He doesn’t give a shit that he has to work around my arms—he seals their bodies closer and nuzzles his face into the side of her neck.
“ Corazón ,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”
Bridget’s breathing stutters to a stop for a long second before she shakes her head. Just once. Just a little bit.
But Dante growls and starts up a purr of his own—uneven, rough, and deeper than mine.
He scrapes his teeth along the blank, creamy skin under his lips and murmurs more Spanish.
I suspect he’s threatening lives, but the words don’t sound nearly as ugly in his native language, and his voice relaxes the woman in my arms.
Bridget tries to apologize, but we both cut her off with dull roars.
“ Never apologize for what just happened,” Dante growls.
My Alpha snarls, putting an edge along my purr. It sends a shiver down Bridget’s back. Her chest presses tighter to mine as her perfume winds into the air.
Fuck. Yes .
The voice in my middle loves that. Turning her on, making her feel safe enough to even think about sex. Especially right now.
I scent-mark Bridget before the thought registers. A small, strangled whine ekes out of her. “ Jesse …”
God, why haven’t I done this before? This should be the first thing to happen every morning and the last thing I do at night.
I’m not the only one half-crazy from Bridget’s scent. Dante’s dark eyes squeeze shut. He nips her again, this time hard enough to draw a whimper. He tucks his lower half against her ass, deliberately rubbing his erection there.
Bridget’s perfume explodes , pouring out in a rush of sugared freshness so strong, even Colt grunts. My cock hardens into steel, just inches from where slick soaks through her panties and starts to creep into the pinstriped fabric of my jersey.
Shit . It’s so good . Sharp enough to slice. So sweet that I don’t care.
Let it cut me. Let it kill me.
As long as I get more .
Dante runs his palms along the outside of her thighs, audibly inhaling her scent and rasping his encouragement. “That’s right. Your alphas are here now.”
I feel the fight in her. The urge to protest. I can almost hear the words.
You’re not actually my alphas.
This is all supposed to be fake .
It isn’t fake, though.
This? Now? The fire in my body? The ache in my heart? This is the truest, deepest sort of care I’ve ever experienced.
In the end, Bridget sniffs quietly. “You don’t have to say things like that, Dante. I’m—I know this isn’t real.”
We both stiffen. Dante’s black eyes snap to mine, burning with angry regret. Saying all the things I’m thinking.
We fucked this up.
Colt stares at her profile like he might be able to read her mind if he tries hard enough. For a second, I feel Adrian’s absence. He’d know what to say, what to do. But someone had to stay with the team and finish this damn game… and he wanted to do that for us, so we could fix this.
Because we’re the ones who hurt her in the first place. It might have been the crowd today. But ultimately, this is on us.
On me .
I sigh, dropping my forehead to Bridget’s crown. “Baby,” I rasp, closing my eyes and drawing one last deep breath of her perfect scent. In case what I’m about to say sours it. “How can we ever make this up to you?”