Chapter 7 The Rules Of Engagement #3
Cal chokes on a laugh. Etienne is smiling again, that soft, amused expression that makes him look even more attractive than he already is.
Stop noticing how attractive your roommates are. Bad brain. Bad. We discussed this.
Rafe groans, his head falling back in frustration.
"I did not choose to be naked in front of you!" he protests, his voice rising. "YOU walked in on ME. In MY locker room. I was minding my own business, taking a post-game shower, and you just barged in like you owned the place!"
I flip him off without breaking eye contact.
"So." I lower my hand. "Are we good with the rules?"
Cal shrugs, clearly deciding this fight is not worth having. "Sure. Whatever. I can work with these."
Rafe grumbles but does not actually disagree, probably too focused on protecting his injured pride and certain other injured areas.
Etienne raises his hand.
Like we are in a classroom. Like I am a teacher who has just asked if anyone has questions. It is so unexpectedly polite, so weirdly endearing, that I almost smile despite myself.
"Yes, Etienne?"
"What are you going to do when Valentine's Day comes?"
The question catches me off guard. I blink at him, temporarily thrown off my confident stride.
"What?"
"Valentine's Day," he repeats, those storm-blue eyes focused entirely on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "Your deadline. The day your mother expects you to be bonded. What happens when it arrives?"
Cal snickers from the couch.
"What, you gonna ask her out?" He elbows Etienne playfully. "Take her on a romantic Valentine's date? Sweep her off her feet with your mysterious French-Canadian charm and your brooding author vibes?"
Etienne does not respond to the teasing. Does not even acknowledge it. His eyes stay locked on mine, waiting for an answer like it genuinely matters to him.
He is serious. He is actually serious about this question. What do I do with that?
I smile, trying to mask the flutter of nervousness in my chest.
"Well," I say slowly, "I do not actually know. I have not thought that far ahead, honestly. I have been too focused on getting through the next six weeks to worry about what happens when they are over."
I tilt my head, feeling a spark of something reckless ignite in my chest. The same spark that made me kick Rafe in the balls. The same spark that keeps pushing me to be bolder than I feel.
"But I do not have a date for Valentine's Day. So if you want to be first on the list, Etienne..." I meet his eyes and wink. "Be my guest."
The words are teasing. Flirtatious. The kind of thing you say as a joke, not a genuine offer.
But Etienne does not treat it like a joke.
His lips curl into a slow, genuine smile. Those storm-blue eyes warm with something that makes my breath catch and my heart do a stupid little flip.
"Sure."
The word drops into the silence like a stone into still water, sending ripples through the entire room.
Cal's jaw drops. Rafe's head snaps toward his packmate so fast I am surprised he does not give himself whiplash.
"WHAT?" they both say at the same time, their voices blending into a chorus of disbelief.
I blink, equally caught off guard.
"Wait. Are you serious?"
Etienne shrugs, completely unbothered by the chaos he has just created.
"Why not? Let us go on a date. Regardless of what happens over the next couple of weeks." He tilts his head, a hint of playfulness entering his expression. "I mean, as long as we are not mortal enemies by then."
I laugh despite myself, the sound surprised and genuine.
"Oh, an enemies-to-lovers arc." I press a hand to my chest dramatically. "How grand. How romantic. How very romance novel of you."
Something flickers in his expression. Interest, maybe. Or recognition.
"Do you actually like to read books?"
The question is so unexpected, so disconnected from the charged atmosphere of the room, that it takes me a moment to process.
"I..." I pause, thinking about it. Really thinking, for the first time in years.
"Honestly? I used to adore reading. When I was younger, I would devour books like they were oxygen.
Romance, fantasy, mystery, everything I could get my hands on.
I would stay up until three in the morning hiding under my covers with a flashlight, desperate to find out what happened next. "
A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips.
"I do not really know what happened. When I stopped. Life got busy, I guess. Or maybe I just lost the joy in it somewhere along the way. Lost myself in trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be instead of who I actually was."
I shrug, trying to shake off the melancholy threatening to settle over me.
"Maybe this school will help me figure that out. Along with everything else."
Etienne is looking at me with an expression I cannot quite decipher. Something soft. Something deep. Like he understands exactly what I mean in a way that most people would not.
"Well," he says slowly, "maybe we can explore that together. Once we settle in."
My interest perks up immediately.
"Explore reading?"
"Reading. Writing." He shrugs, a hint of shyness entering his expression that makes him look younger, more vulnerable. "I like to write. Here and there. Stories, mostly. Nothing published or anything, but it is important to me."
My eyes widen.
"Really?" I take a step closer, genuinely intrigued. "Do you want to become an author? Like, professionally?"
"I... have not really thought about it seriously." He glances away, that shyness deepening. "Like I said, no one has ever really asked about goals or dreams or what we actually want out of our lives."
"Well, I am asking," I interrupt, my voice firm. "What do you write? What genre? Have you finished anything? Can I read it sometime?"
The questions tumble out before I can stop them, genuine curiosity overriding my usual caution. Etienne looks surprised by my enthusiasm, but not displeased. If anything, he looks hopeful. Like no one has ever shown interest in this part of him before.
"I write mostly—"
"We need to go train."
Rafe's voice cuts through the conversation like a blade, sharp and sudden and thoroughly unwelcome. He has pushed off from his position, standing straight now despite the lingering discomfort, his expression closed off in a way that feels deliberate.
Cal and Etienne both turn to look at him, confusion written across their faces.
"What?" Cal asks.
"Train," Rafe repeats, already moving toward the door with jerky, agitated movements. "We are going to gather the rest of the team and run some drills."
Cal frowns, checking his phone.
"Dude, it is literally after school hours. Why would we train now? We just had practice earlier today."
"I do not care." Rafe's jaw is tight, his movements radiating barely contained energy. "I am the captain, remember? I say we train, we train. Let us go."
He is running away. The big bad Alpha captain is literally fleeing from a conversation about books and dreams and Valentine's Day dates.
Interesting. Very interesting. What exactly is he afraid of?
Cal and Etienne exchange a loaded glance, clearly having one of those silent packmate conversations. After a moment, they both sigh and rise from their positions.
"Fine," Cal mutters, stretching his arms above his head. "But you are explaining to the guys why they have to do extra drills on a rest day. I am not taking the blame for your sudden fitness obsession."
Rafe does not respond. He is already at the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary. But before he leaves, he turns back to look at me.
Those storm-gray eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something beneath the hostility. Something complicated. Something that looks almost like fear. Or maybe longing. Or maybe both tangled together in a knot he does not know how to untie.
"Do not touch my shit," he says, his voice rough. "Nerdy MaeMae."
He used the nickname. But it sounded different this time. Less cruel. Almost affectionate?
No. That is ridiculous. I am reading too much into things because I want there to be more than there is.
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms.
"I would never dream of touching your stuff. Or your dirty laundry, which reminds me..." I hold up a finger. "Added rule. Pick up after yourselves. If your shit reeks for longer than twenty-four hours, you either wash it or it is going in the trash."
I wrinkle my nose dramatically for emphasis.
"My nostrils are already picking up way too many scents as an Omega.
I do not need dirty hockey gear added to the list of things assaulting my senses.
The amount of sweat and testosterone embedded in those pads is genuinely horrifying.
I can smell it from here and you have not even worn them since this morning. "
Cal snorts. Etienne looks mildly embarrassed, probably making a mental note to wash his gear more frequently.
Rafe just huffs, but he does not argue. None of them do.
"Whatever," Rafe mutters. "Just stay out of trouble while we are gone."
And then they are leaving. Cal first, with a casual wave and a cheerful "Later, MaeMae.
" Etienne second, pausing at the door to give me a small smile and a quiet "We will talk more about the books later.
I want to hear your recommendations." And Rafe last, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattles the frame and probably annoys the neighbors all over again.
Silence.
Complete, blissful, overwhelming silence.
I stand in the middle of the living room for a long moment, not moving. Just breathing. Letting the quiet settle around me like a blanket I desperately needed.
They are gone.
You are alone.
You survived.
My legs feel suddenly weak, the adrenaline that has been carrying me all day finally draining away.
I stumble to the couch, collapsing onto the cushions that still smell faintly of Cal's cinnamon roll scent.
My hands are shaking, I realize. Have been shaking this whole time, hidden by crossed arms and clenched fists and sheer force of will.
You kicked Rafe in the balls. You established rules with three Alphas. You got asked on a Valentine's Day date by a man who writes stories and looks at you like you matter.
What is happening? What is your life right now?
I tilt my head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling. The dorm is quiet now, filled only with the mingled scents of my new roommates and the distant sounds of campus life outside the windows.
Six weeks.
Six weeks to figure out my life. To escape my mother's plans. To find out who Mabeline Mae Rose actually is when she is not running or hiding or trying to survive.
Six weeks of living with three Alphas who used to be my tormentors and might possibly be something else now. Something I do not have a name for yet.
This is insane. This whole situation is completely, utterly insane.
But for the first time in a very long time, I do not feel like running.
I look around the living room, taking in the mismatched furniture and the hockey memorabilia on the walls and the pile of textbooks on the coffee table. Taking in the scents that are slowly becoming familiar instead of overwhelming. Taking in the space that is, somehow, inexplicably, mine now.
I take a deep breath.
Let it out slowly.
And smile.
"Here is my new home," I whisper to the empty room. "At least for the next six weeks."