12. Dean
CHAPTER 12
Dean
I stare down at the schedule. One name stands out. Chadwick Prince. Chad. His name, smug on the paper, like it’s mocking me. My fist tightens, the paper’s edges crinkling under the pressure. Tennis lessons. Of course, he signed up for tennis lessons. It’s a joke to him. It has to be. A game, just like everything else with Chad.
I toss the paper onto my desk, pacing the cramped space. Every step feels too tight, too close, like the walls are pressing in. His name shouldn’t bother me—shouldn’t even register—but it does. The bastard is everywhere in my head, seeping into every crack I swore I’d sealed. That kiss was a mistake. I know it. My body knows it. It’s still wound tight, still humming with need, even though my rut ended days ago.
But he promised to show me what I’m missing. As if I don’t already know. As if I haven’t spent years holding back. Years pretending he doesn’t still get to me.
I drag a hand through my hair, growling under my breath. Of all the people to drag back into my life, why him? Why now? I had everything under control. I was fine. And then Chad waltzes back, smiling like he owns the world, like that kiss didn’t mess me up more than I want to admit.
I snatch the schedule again, fingers twitching. Lakelyn. Another complication. Just seeing her name next to his makes something coil tight in my chest. She’s sweet. Easy to be around. I turned her down, tried to put distance between us. Not because I don’t want her— God , that’d be easy. But I’ve been here before. People see Alpha, and they don’t see me anymore. Just what I can give them. And I’m not going through that again. Not with her.
But then there’s Chad. And the idea of them together—it twists inside me, something ugly and sharp. I shouldn’t care. I don’t want to care. Yet, here I am, pacing my office like I’m waiting for the ax to drop.
What if she falls for him? What if it’s more than that? What if I do? Again.
I slam my fist against the desk, jaw clenched. No. I won’t fall for it again. He’s a game player, always has been. High school proved that. I let my guard down once, and I paid for it. He’ll do the same to her, leave her wrecked when he’s done.
I glance at the clock. My next lesson’s up. Them. Chad and Lakelyn.
My chest tightens, and I force myself to take a breath. I can’t walk into this with my head full of noise. He’s not going to win, not this time.
I yank the door open, stepping into the fresh air like it’s going to somehow clear the restlessness rattling inside me. The courts come into view, and there they are—Lakelyn laughing at something Chad said, her hand brushing his arm before she puts both back on the racket, his stupid grin plastered across his face.
Something dark twists in my gut. I should walk over, keep things professional, keep it cool. But when Chad’s eyes lift, locking on mine, that smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth— like he knows exactly what he’s doing—I feel it hit. The same jolt from that kiss, raw and dangerous.
I can’t ignore it. And it’s not just lust. It’s possession. A wild, desperate urge to tear him away from her, drag him somewhere he can’t keep pretending. Somewhere he can’t hide behind that cocky grin.
I push forward, forcing a casual stride, though my pulse is hammering. Focus. It’s a lesson. Nothing more.
Chad has his arms loosely around Lakelyn’s waist, his fingers covering hers on her racket. As she giggles at missing the launched tennis balls. In fact, I'm sure he's the reason she's missing. Is he… fuck, he's nuzzling her neck .
And they look fucking perfect together. Of course he would go for her. Innocent is his type. Until he ruins you.
“Are you two done screwing around?” I snap.
Lakelyn jumps guiltily, and Chad slowly drops his arms to his sides.
“Dean! Oh. Are you feeling better?” Lakelyn stammers, her pretty blue eyes landing on me.
I swallow, my gaze shifting to Chad before I bring them back to hers. Admitting to a rut causing my absence in front of the omega that brought it on isn't something I plan on doing.
“I’m fine.” Attempting to act normal, whatever the fuck that is, I grab up a basket of tennis balls and move to the launcher.
“You were sick?” Chad asks.
When I ignore the question, he follows behind me. Not only can I sense him at my back, but I can smell his pheromones. His perfume screams at me that he's mine. Just like it always has.
My omega. My scent match.
Only, there’s a hint of something more in the air. It isn’t just him. It’s her—Lakelyn. Fresh blueberries, subtle and sweet, blend into the scent of Chad’s spiced papaya perfume, creating a mix that hits me like a punch to the gut. My body reacts before I can stop it, heat pooling low and fast, making my fists curl tighter around the basket.
I can’t act on it, though. Not with her, and definitely not with him. The thought burns in my chest, a twisted reminder that I have to keep it together. That whatever this pull is, I can’t let myself get lost in it.
Lust.
Need.
Desire.
Desperation.
Whatever it's called destroys me with each inhale.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice tight and clipped.
He moves next to me, within touching distance, and pins me with a look. Still, I focus on loading the launcher. Avoiding eye contact.
“I hope it isn't contagious.” My gaze snaps to him, and his lips curl up at earning a reaction. His eyes drop to the now empty bin in my grip before slowly lifting to mine again. “Because I'm gonna need hands-on instruction.”
He taps the bin twice before swaying his ass back to Lakelyn. Dragging a lungful of fresh air into my body, I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to steady myself.
I don't want a pack. I don't need a pack. But fuck it all, I want to sink my teeth into both of them to warn other alphas away.
By the time I’ve pulled myself together enough to cross the court, they’re laughing again. Easy, comfortable—like I’m not even here. “You two done flirting?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intend.
Dammit .
Chad’s lips curve into that familiar, infuriating smile. “Flirting?” he says, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “Just…getting to know my partner.” He glances at Lakelyn, his eyes lingering in a way that makes my stomach tighten, and she blushes. The sight stokes the fire burning under my skin. He clearly already has gotten to know her.
“Jealous?” Chad asks, his tone light, but there’s something in his gaze that dares me to react.
I take a step closer, fists curling at my sides. “Jealous of what? You wasting everyone’s time?”
Chad’s grin doesn’t falter; if anything, it deepens, his eyes gleaming like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “Wasting time?” He tilts his head, that smug, infuriating smile pulling at his lips. “Didn’t know I needed your permission to talk to her. Or to exist.”
For a split second, I imagine reaching out, grabbing him by the collar, and crushing my mouth against his—anything to shut him up. But that thought just makes the heat flare hotter in my chest, because I know that want, that pull, is as dangerous as it is tempting.
Before I can even process the wild urge to shut him up with a kiss, Lakelyn’s voice cuts through the tension like a lifeline.
“Okay, guys, let’s not turn this into something it doesn’t need to be.” She steps forward, placing a hand lightly on my arm. Her touch is soft, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect. The coiled tension inside me loosens, my fists relaxing as her presence gently soothes the storm brewing beneath my skin.
I glance at her, and something about the calm in her eyes tugs at the alpha inside me. She’s not challenging me, but she’s not backing down either. She’s just…there. Strong, steady. A sweet melody of blueberries and cream blooms between us. And my mouth waters to taste her in the same way I’ve tasted Chad.
I take a breath, attempting to clear the desire out, releasing some of the heat that’s been building up. “Fine,” I mutter, stepping back, though the frustration still lingers beneath the surface.
Chad watches us, his grin fading into something quieter, something almost thoughtful. But he doesn’t push it. Not this time.