Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
PIERCE
I will tear a motherfucker’s arms off if one more meathead alpha gives that omega another up and down look.
I steer her toward the free weight section in the corner, making sure she’s facing into the gym.
I cross my arms, planting my body between her and the rest of the room.
We need to criminalize leggings or insist on baggy shirts.
Maybe I can hide her in one of Beckett’s jerseys. It should come down to her knees.
A wave of dizziness rocks my knees just thinking of her in Beckett’s clothes, his cinnamon all over her.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t even know what this girl smells like. I’m so over this broken nose. Liam and Beckett’s scents feel like vague memories.
I follow Ash’s gaze across the gym to Beckett’s perfect form doing deadlifts. He should fucking cover up too. I need to invest as a pack in baggy sweatpants.
“Do you train everyone this intensely, or is he special?”
It takes a second for Ash’s words to register.
“Beckett is special. Unlike me. And he’s a professional athlete recovering from a concussion.” I start reracking weights for no good reason, but it gives me something to focus on besides the way her hair falls across her face when she tilts her head. “So yeah, it’s intense.”
I reach past her to grab a kettlebell, close enough that our arms brush. The contact sends a jolt through me that I refuse to acknowledge. She takes a step back, putting space between us again, and my chest constricts with an emotion I don’t have a name for.
“You’re not what I expected,” she says suddenly.
“What did you expect?”
She shrugs, eyes darting toward Beckett again. “You were… I don’t know. Someone… different.”
What the fuck does that mean?
Liam emerges from the office with his laptop tucked under his arm. He is not dressed for working out. Thank fuck. I don’t think I could handle all three of them being mostly naked and sweaty. Liam touches my elbow. It’s casual, a greeting, but it brings my heart rate down a notch.
Ash looks at the weights still in her hands like she’s not sure what to do with them. I reach out and take them from her. Her skin is sizzling hot.
As I rerack them, Liam says, “Look at you, getting the princess treatment. Pierce doesn’t usually play nice with newcomers.”
“I’m plenty nice,” I growl.
“Sure you are.” Ash crosses her arms. The little smirk on her lips makes me want to shove my tongue between them to show her exactly how nice I am.
Before I can respond, Beckett jogs over, his shirt dark with sweat and clinging to his chest. Ash’s nostrils flare and she licks her lips. He must smell crazy good.
“Pierce giving lessons? That’s rare. Usually, he just barks at people until they either get it right or quit.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter. “Is it National Pick on Pierce Day?”
“Isn’t that every day?” Ash’s smirk gets wider.
Beckett wipes his face with the bottom of his shirt, briefly exposing the ridged muscles of his stomach. Ash flashes me a guilty look like we’re both not ogling him. Jesus Christ, I’m going to die. Combust on the spot.
“Actually, I wanted to ask you something. I’m not cleared to play yet, but I’m going back on the road with the team.
I’d feel better knowing you were spending time with Liam and Pierce at the house while I’m gone,” Beckett continues.
He tries to make it sound casual, but the protective edge is unmistakable.
Ash’s cheeks flush pink. “Oh, I… I don’t know if…”
“You can come by here and workout whenever you want.” I just blurt it out. What the fuck am I saying?
“Just think about it? The guys would love the company too.”
I keep my expression carefully blank, though every muscle in my body tightens. The guys would love the company? Since when did he start making decisions about what I’d love?
“And the kitchen’s always stocked,” Liam offers smoothly, stepping in as Ash flounders.
“I…” Ash looks between us, clearly flustered. “Okay. Maybe?”
“No pressure,” Beckett says, though his hopeful expression says otherwise. “I’m going to hit the showers,” he announces, squeezing her shoulder gently as he passes. “Meet you guys out front in fifteen?”
Liam steps closer to Ash. “Want me to show you the women’s locker room? In case you want to freshen up.”
“That would be great.” There’s relief in her smile.
I nod, watching as they all peel away. Liam guiding Ash toward the locker rooms with a light touch to her elbow, Beckett striding toward the men’s showers. Leaving me standing alone in the corner, surrounded by weights and mirrors that reflect back a man who looks calm, unbothered, in control.
It’s bullshit. Every inch of me is screaming, and I don’t even understand why. It’s taking every ounce of will I have as an alpha not to follow her.
I glance toward the hallway where Liam led her.
The women’s locker room is pretty basic.
So is the men’s. We’re not an upscale resort gym.
I can clearly picture Liam just shrugging at the basic amenities.
My mind skips ahead, imagining her pulling her oversized sweater over her head, her hair falling back into place, skin exposed inch by inch.
Suddenly, I’m seeing all of us, me, Beckett, Liam, and Ash, in the large shower stall in the back corner of the men’s room.
Water cascading over bare skin, steam rising around us.
Beckett’s hands in her hair, my mouth on her neck, Liam behind her with his fingers tracing the curve of her spine.
Her head falling back, water running in rivulets between her breasts.
The four of us tangled together, slick and desperate.
“Fuck.” The word explodes from my mouth as I shove myself violently away from the bench.
My body’s reaction is immediate and overwhelming, cock hardening, blood running hot in my veins, a pulse of desire so strong it leaves me dizzy.
The fantasy is so vivid, I can almost feel the water on my skin and my tongue in her mouth.
What the fuck is happening? I’ve never reacted like this to an omega before, not even close.
I grab a clean towel from the stack and wipe my face roughly, cursing as pain shoots through my face. My goddamn nose.
I focus on the mess Beckett left. Weights not reracked, his water bottle abandoned on the floor, a sweat towel crumpled near the cable machine. Things I can fix, clean, control. Not whatever this is burning through me like a fever.
But the images won’t fade. Ash’s hands on Beckett’s chest, her mouth on Liam’s, her eyes on mine.
What is it about her? She’s not even my type, too skinny, too bitchy, too guarded. She looks at me like she’s expecting a fight.
And now Beckett wants her spending time at our house while he’s gone.
The thought sends another pulse of heat through me, followed immediately by frustration.
I’d have to see her every day, watch her move through our space.
Not being able to properly smell her is making me crazy, like trying to read in the dark.
I grab Beckett’s water bottle from the floor, squeezing it too tight in my fist. Water spurts from the top, splashing my shirt. “Perfect,” I mutter, shaking droplets from my hand.
Behind me, the locker room door opens and closes. I take a deep breath, forcing my face into neutral lines, my posture into something resembling relaxation. I methodically wipe down the bench like nothing happened, like my mind isn’t still half-trapped in a fantasy I have no right to imagine.
“You good?” Beckett asks, hair damp from his shower, gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Fine,” I lie, not meeting his eyes. “Just cleaning up your mess. As usual.”
He laughs, the sound light and easy. “What would I do without you?”
Oh Beckett. Without me, you’d probably have the perfect life, that perfect omega, a gaggle of kids. Everything your heart ever wanted.
Just then, she emerges from the locker room, Liam at her side. He’s got his laptop bag in one hand and her coat in the other.
“Let’s eat,” Beckett says, clapping me on the shoulder.
Great. And now all I can think about is getting that omega on her back, pushing her legs wide and making a meal out of her.