Chapter 43
WREN
“My god. Wren, you did not warn me that becoming invested in this sport would age me prematurely. What the fuck?” Nikita hisses.
Gabbie breathes a sigh of relief and rests her head on my shoulder. “I think I need a minute to recover. My heart just about stopped dead in that final minute. I was this close to screaming for a crash cart.”
“Yeah, I really need to get on Finch’s case about these close games, because I feel like I’m the one who just did eighty minutes of intense cardio.” I exhale a nervous laugh, adrenaline still making my limbs tremble.
Nikita giggles and nudges my knee with hers. “Your boy saved the day. I wonder what on earth might have inspired him to score that final try out of nowhere?”
“That’s definitely gonna be on the highlights package this week.” Gabbie grins.
I blush profusely.
“I’m guessing boyfriend is going to be in the mood for some spontaneous celebrations… of the Omega-flavored variety.”
“Shhhh.” My eyes go wide. “You can’t say stuff like that out loud. Not here.”
“What? In front of tens of thousands of people who have literally no idea who we’re talking about and are all far too busy jumping up and down shouting about their team winning at the death?”
I glare at her and mime zipping my lips.
“Fine. Fine. We’ve got your back.” She rolls her eyes and whips out her lipstick and a compact from her bag to touch up her makeup.
“Just make sure he doesn’t let his knot come out to play.
I know I’m immensely charming, but even I might struggle to captivate an entire forty-man squad to keep them eating out of the palm of my hand for the time it takes you two to become uncoupled. ”
Gabbie snorts and takes another sip from Nikita’s hip flask.
“You really are the worst.” I steal the drink for myself, take a sip, then hand it back.
“Ahh… you say that now, but I can guarantee you’ll be thanking me when Scotland takes one look at you and pounces. After a win like that, I can guarantee he won’t be in the mood for waiting until you get home at the end of the night.”
That is an absolute certainty. My blood heats at the thought of how elated Connor must feel to have sealed the win for the Wolves, and how eager I am to show him exactly what that sight of him sprinting the length of the field did to me.
“How is it that 99 percent of our conversations are about my coochie? What has happened to propriety?" I clear my throat, attempting to disguise my squirming.
“You’re out here in knot-induced euphoria. Let us poor lonesome Omegas live vicariously through you. We should all hope to be so lucky one day, right, G?”
Gabbie squeaks and turns back toward us, seeming distracted by something down at the sideline. Those wide green eyes blink at us a couple of times as if she’s shaking off a fog. “What?”
“Oh, hell.” Nikita tuts. “That’s it. You’ve officially been cut off from the bar, Gee Gee.
No more Nikita-special winter warmer for you.
” She plucks the hip flask out of her hands and slips it into her bag, giving us both an impish smile.
“Alright. Time to go let our girl Wren show her superstar how to say a proper thank you for winning the game in scent-matched Omega.”
My skin tingles with the proximity of Theo and Connor in the same room.
It’s not anywhere near as confronting or overwhelming as the night at the bar when I descended into the clutches of that mini-heat.
But simply knowing how this delicate web of awareness wraps me up and thrums against my skin like the breeze from a hummingbird’s wings, I can only imagine that I’d be a panting mess on the floor if we hadn’t taken the steps we have in recent days.
It turns out that wearing their clothes nonstop, sleeping in their beds, and all but moving in together has calmed my Omega storm.
Slightly. Probably. Kind of.
I was doing well when I arrived at this evening’s match, only to be whipped into a frenzy thanks to Connor’s bulging thighs and perfect butt squeezed into tiny shorts.
Tonight’s post-game event is jam-packed with rugby players in suits and a corral of corporate types. Theo mentioned something about this being one of the ways the team taps into a whole raft of sponsorship and funding for the causes the Wolves support.
Thankfully, Finch only ever needs to catch wind of my supposed intentions to go out for a night with the girls, and he will insist on the three of us accompanying him.
Hence, our invites magically appeared faster than I could text Hey, I’m going out to The Woozy Barrel tonight since we don’t have any other plans.
Do I feel a slight twinge of guilt for manipulating him? Not particularly. This feels like payback for all the years I had to put up with his teenage boy smell.
A text comes in, and butterflies immediately start swirling in my stomach.
Big Guy:
I need you to meet me in the corridor.
It’s an emergency.
Me:
Does that emergency live in your pants by any chance?
Big Guy:
You think that’s all I would be focusing on?
Devastated that you think I’m all knot and no brains.
This text is written in 100% Scottish tears.
Me:
Yes. I absolutely do.
Not even your best puppy dog eye routine can say otherwise.
Big Guy:
Well, what if I remind you that you’re very intelligent and beautiful, and you’re going to have to come kiss my bruised heart better.
Me:
You see, I knew it. You’re not thinking with the head on your shoulders.
How am I supposed to get out of here without being noticed?
A figure looms by my side. I damn near jump out of my skin, but then almost leap straight into the arms of my scent match. Theo stands beside me, hands tucked loosely in his pockets, with an unreadable expression on his face.
Oh, no.
They’re ganging up on me.
“Murphy,” he calls out to my brother, and I nearly pass out.
“What are you doing?” I hiss through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, Mr. Scent Match. What are you doing?” Nikita lifts her glass to disguise her hushed words.
“Why is he coming over here?” Gabbie, for whatever reason, sounds more panicked than any of us put together.
“Brennan.” My brother arrives and does the rugby-male Alpha slap-on-the-shoulder thing, instead of communicating with the use of actual words.
“Your sister here was just telling me about how you haven’t given her a proper tour of the VIP suites. She doesn’t believe we even have any, since you’re too tight to get your own sister the comfort of a box seat to watch the games from.”
Finch turns from Vice-Captain, brimming with confidence, to nervously bashful in a blink.
Quickly glancing between his team’s owner and the rest of us, he looks mortified that he’s somehow done something to piss his boss off.
Theo is playing a little dirty pulling rank like this, and if it were anyone else, I’d be grumpy at him for waving his team owner position around.
But this is Finch, and I’m finding my Alpha’s bossy attitude very attractive.
Crap. I bit the inside of my cheek. Definitely need to wind it back in so that I don’t perfume.
“Here, take my lanyard, and give your sister and her friends a chance to take a proper look around. They’ve been telling me that they’ve had to huddle around a hip flask and avoid being smothered by rowdy Alphas and their rugby chants.
Think about maybe splurging a little next season, huh?
Omegas shouldn’t have to sit out in the cold for every game. ”
Theo takes a sip of his beer. Finch stands there, eyes wide and pinging between all of us, looking like a schoolboy who just got scolded before first period.
“Actually… you know what?” Before my brother can move, Theo claps him on the back, unhooking his lanyard and slapping it into Finch’s hand.
“Go show these ladies my corporate box. Hell, it’s the least I can do to offer you all a much more comfortable alternative to the sideline if you’d prefer for the rest of the season. ”
Nikita is almost certainly about to lift off with how giddily she’s vibrating.
Gabbie, for some strange reason, looks pale, as if the thought of Finch taking us on a tour of the corporate boxes might make her want to sprint for the hills.
I’m doing my best to wrestle my expression into one somewhere between casual disinterest and perhaps even boredom at the presence of the man at my side.
Theo Brennan is the least interesting man I’ve ever met.
Definitely not my ex’s father.
Certainly not my Alpha, who makes me want to grab him by the belt loops and do despicable things while on my knees.
“Lead the way, Murphy.” Theo gestures with an outstretched hand. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to have a reason to evade these sponsors for a little while.”
My brother coughs to clear his throat, then walks in front of us, with Nikita slipping in neatly at his side to take his arm.
“What are you doing?” I repeat with a whisper through a forced smile.
“You’re about to break a heel,” Theo says coolly. He’s far too calm and collected. This Alpha is plotting, and I can’t believe he’s going about this in such an obvious manner.
“I’m about to wh—”
“Wren? Are you alright?” Theo exclaims loudly, grabbing me to support me by my elbows, as if I just stumbled into him. “Hey… it’s okay. I’ve got you covered. I can’t believe it just snapped like that. Is your ankle hurting?”
The others pause.
Nikita feigns shock, slapping her hand over her mouth.
“A broken heel? No way. Shit. I remember when I snapped a stiletto once while out clubbing. Nearly broke my damn foot in the process. Don’t suppose you rugby boys stock super glue anywhere around here?
That should hold it until we get you home, Wren. ”
I’m too stunned to speak. Theo continues awkwardly clutching my arms, as if I’m teetering dramatically off balance, even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with my heel or my footing whatsoever.