29. Dean
CHAPTER 29
Dean
I focus on prepping the launcher, my mind racing with thoughts I can't seem to quiet. I’m not even sure if Chad will show up for his lesson today—not after everything that went down yesterday. Just the thought of it makes the blood race through my veins.
Things are different today. Chad’s not only my scent match. Because that would be too simple. A snort catches in my throat, and I laugh to myself. A scent-bound pack is more than just a connection based on scent; it embodies a bond that transcends everything else. And the fact he’s part of it, with Lakelyn and Mason is almost too much.
How did I not sense it before?
I’m not sure, but it explains why I’ve felt so incomplete, why I’ve struggled to move on after discovering he was meant to be mine. Why there was that instant connection with Lakelyn and the thought that maybe I could find something with her, before I rejected the idea of making her miserable with me. Because that’s all I thought I could ever be.
Scent-bound packs can never truly find happiness apart. No matter how hard they try, there’s always that gnawing emptiness, that feeling that something vital’s missing.
Did Chad feel that same void when he ran off to New York? I might never know.
My breath catches in my throat when I look up and see him—Chad, strolling toward the tennis court, and Lakelyn right beside him. Their hands are linked, and there’s a shy, almost secretive smile playing on Lakelyn’s lips.
Mine.
Fuck. They’re both mine.
And I want them— both of them —right now. Now that I know what this feeling is, the constant thrumming beneath my skin, I want to grab onto them, keep them close, lock them up until they realize they belong with me. That’s some primal shit talking, but I can’t shake it. I straighten up, trying to push back the alpha instincts surging to the surface, and watch them approach, heart pounding, my control hanging by a thread.
Fuck even my teeth ache.
Chad’s grin is the first thing I notice—sharp, knowing, and just a little too confident. He’s up to something, and I can feel it before he even opens his mouth. His dark eyes flash with mischief, his whole posture screaming that he’s here to mess with me, to push me right up to the edge.
I steel myself, gripping the tennis ball launcher a little tighter than necessary. The crowd around the country club is thinning, but there are still enough eyes on the court. If I lose control now, it’ll be the talk of the place.
“Ready for your lesson, Coach?” Chad’s voice drips with amusement as he steps onto the court, Lakelyn following close behind. Her hand still rests in his, but there’s no mistaking the way she’s looking at me—like she knows something I don’t.
I try to focus, but it’s impossible when they’re both standing there, in front of me, together.
It shouldn’t make me want to tear something apart, but it does. My gaze flickers between them, and every instinct I have is telling me to claim them, to remind them who the alpha is here. But instead, I force myself to play it cool.
“You actually showed up. I’m impressed,” I say, my voice tighter than I mean it to be. I try for casual, but I know I’m failing. Because all I can think of is him riding me in my fucking Mustang.
Chad’s grin widens, like he can feel the tension rolling off me. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know how much I love a challenge.” His words are loaded, and there’s no missing the challenge behind them.
Lakelyn doesn’t say anything, but she’s watching me closely, her expression soft but calculating. It’s like they’ve come here with some unspoken agreement, like they’re silently testing me.
And I hate that it’s working.
“Lakelyn wanted to watch,” Chad adds, his eyes gleaming as he gives her a sideways glance. “Thought maybe she could learn a thing or two.”
It’s clear he isn’t talking about tennis. My fists clench at my sides, and I take a slow breath. “Is that right?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level, but it’s a losing battle.
Lakelyn meets my gaze, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “I thought it’d be fun,” she says sweetly, her voice soft, but there’s a hidden edge to it, like she knows exactly what’s happening between the three of us. Or maybe I’m just reading into things.
I take a step forward, my body practically vibrating with the need to do something— anything —to remind them both who’s in control here. But Chad’s there, smirking, waiting for me to crack. And Lakelyn... damn her, she looks at me like she knows what’s running through my mind, like she’s already made peace with it. Like she wants it.
“Fun,” I echo, forcing a laugh. “You know this isn’t a game, right?”
“Oh, I thought that’s what tennis was, a game.” Chad’s voice is teasing, but there’s something darker in his eyes. He steps closer, just enough to invade my space, to test me. “But maybe we like games.”
And that’s when I feel it—the shift in the air. The primal pull of my instincts threatening to snap, to take over. The need to claim them both surges so hard I almost lose it. Almost .
The crowd’s too close, the chatter of the club members buzzing at the edges of my hearing. I grit my teeth, trying to keep the growl that’s rumbling in my chest at bay, but Chad’s taunting grin and Lakelyn’s steady gaze make it impossible.
I can feel myself unraveling, every second pushing me closer to the edge.
“You’re pushing your luck, Chad,” I warn, my voice low, barely controlled. “This isn’t the time or the place.”
Chad doesn’t back down. In fact, he steps even closer, the barest smile playing on his lips. “You sure about that, Dean?” His voice is a whisper now, low enough that only I can hear. “Because it looks like you’re about to make it the place. Bend me over, teach me another kind of lesson.”
That’s it. The last shred of my control snaps, and I move before I even think. I grab Chad by the front of his shirt, yanking him toward me, my grip tight, teeth bared. My pulse is thundering in my ears, the crowd fading into the background as all I can focus on is the scent of him, the challenge in his eyes, and Lakelyn standing right there, watching every second of it, her sweet perfume rising up to mix with his.
For a brief second, Chad’s smile falters, his eyes widening just a fraction, and I know he can feel how close I am to snapping. But then he recovers, lips twitching upward again. “Careful, Dean,” he murmurs, his voice breathless but teasing. “Don’t want the whole club watching you lose control, do you?”
I glance around, the reality of the situation crashing back in. There are still eyes on us, curious glances from the sidelines. My jaw clenches, and I force myself to loosen my grip, stepping back, even though every part of me is screaming to take this further. To do exactly what he suggested.
Chad smooths out his shirt like nothing happened, but the way his eyes are gleaming tells me he got exactly what he wanted.
Lakelyn steps up beside him, her hand slipping back into his. She doesn’t say anything, but the look she gives me is enough—soft, almost sympathetic. Like she knew I’d lose it, like she was expecting this all along.
I take a deep breath, fighting for control. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
But today? Today, they won this round.
“Lesson’s over,” I mutter, spinning on my heel before I do something I’ll regret.
But of course, he doesn’t let me retreat, doesn’t let me lick my wounds in peace. No, Chad follows. And Lakelyn’s right there with him, tethered to him like they’re a packaged deal now. Exactly how she told me already.
I slam the office door behind me, hoping for a moment of peace, a second to pull myself together. But Chad pushes through, dragging Lakelyn inside with him like he has every right to follow me into my own space. He shuts the door with a soft, deliberate click, leaning against it with his arms crossed, staring at me like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
The image pulls me right back to a memory that’s been haunting me for years—my father, standing in the same spot, arms crossed, blocking my escape. I was barely seventeen then, and he was tearing into me for even thinking about Chad. For wanting him. Needing him. I’ll never forget the way he looked at me, like I was some kind of disappointment, just because Chad didn’t fit into his perfect plan.
My father was all about control—our image at the country club, my tennis career, even the kind of omega I was allowed to be with. And Chad? He was never part of that vision. Hell, when I was gunning for the Olympics, I could barely breathe under the pressure, and my dad made sure I pushed myself until it felt like my fingers were bleeding. All I wanted was to get away. But Chad... Chad got out first. And he didn’t look back. Until now.
That fact digs under my skin, festering like a wound I can’t heal. Because every part of me still wants him. Hell, it’s worse now that I know what they both are to me. I’m living in purgatory.
“What do you want?” I growl, the words harsher than I intended, but I’m too wound up to care.
“More of what happened yesterday,” Chad says, his voice low, and it sends a jolt through me. My eyes snap to his, and the tension in the room tightens, sharp and electric. “I like the way you make me forget my problems.”
I can feel the pull, that magnetic force drawing me toward him, toward both of them. Every inch of me wants to close the gap, to make him eat those words. But I fight it, standing rigid as his words echo in my head.
“You couldn’t wait to get out of the car,” I remind him, my voice quieter now, the bitter truth hanging in the air between us like a challenge.
Chad’s gaze holds steady, unwavering. No apology, no explanation—just that same charged energy humming between us, daring me to make the next move.
Lakelyn steps forward before I can react, her fingers brushing lightly against my arm, sending a shockwave straight through me. I freeze, eyes flicking from her to Chad. He’s watching, not in the way a bystander would, but as if he’s in control, orchestrating the entire thing.
Her touch lingers, soft but deliberate, and I feel her heat, her scent wrapping around me like a second skin. My instincts surge to the surface, and I have to clench my fists to stop from doing something stupid. Like dragging her against me.
“What are you doing?” I rasp, my voice tight, barely holding it together.
Chad’s lips quirk up, and there's something devilish in his expression, but not playful. Calculated. “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, his tone smooth, almost coaxing. “She’s making it easy for you.”
My eyes snap to Lakelyn’s, and she looks up at me, that same quiet determination in her gaze. Her fingers slide down my arm, resting on my wrist, and I feel my control slipping, the primal part of me screaming to take what’s mine.
“Go on, Dean,” Chad whispers, leaning back against the door, arms crossed casually like this is no big deal. “Kiss her.”
I swallow hard, every fiber of my being pulling me toward her, toward him, like a gravitational force I can’t resist. Lakelyn’s eyes stay locked on mine, waiting, her lips parting slightly, as if she knows exactly what’s coming next.
I’m not sure if it's Chad’s words or the look in her eyes, but before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us in one swift step. My hand moves to her cheek, and then I’m pulling her into me, my lips crashing against hers. There’s no hesitation, no holding back. The second our mouths connect, it’s like everything I’ve been fighting against snaps loose, and all that’s left is raw instinct.
Mine .
Lakelyn melts into me like it’s where she belongs, her hands gripping the front of my shirt, and I deepen the kiss, feeling the heat rise between us. Chad steps closer, his presence thick in the air around us, and I can feel him there, just on the edge, waiting.
A purr rumbles from him, and Lakelyn presses more firmly against me. I’m drowning in her. It’s perfect in every way. Just her. Yet, more. The three of us. How would this feel with Mason here to complete the haze of our scents? Would it make all of us aware of what we are to each other?
I know that combining their perfumes makes me feel on edge and crazy. And a part of me craves what Mason’s musk would add. I only got the slightest tease of it last night.
More . I need more.