chapter SEVEN #2
Something primal takes over, a possessive hunger I usually keep locked down tight. I wrap one arm around his chest, pulling him up and back against me, my other hand sliding down to wrap around his cock.
"Jackson," he gasps, head thrown back against my shoulder, throat exposed. An offering. A surrender.
I accept both, my teeth finding the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, not breaking skin but marking him in my own way.
His body tightens around me as he comes with a hoarse cry, the pulses triggering my own release.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, emptying my mind of everything but this moment, this connection.
For precious seconds, there's nothing but sensation. No thoughts of coxswains with hidden secrets. No memories of past betrayals. Just completion, and the blessed silence that follows.
When awareness returns, we're both breathing hard, sweat-slicked and tangled together on sheets that will definitely need washing. I ease away, reluctant to break contact but needing space.
Eli winces slightly as he shifts to his side. "Remind me to stretch more before these workouts."
A laugh escapes me, unexpected but welcome. "That's what you're thinking about right now?"
"Among other things." His eyes track me as I move to grab tissues from his nightstand. "Like why you needed that particular form of stress relief today."
I toss the box to him, avoiding his gaze. "Just one teammate helping another. Isn't that what this is?"
"Sure." His tone says he doesn't believe it for a second. "Just like all those other times we've 'helped' each other since freshman year."
I don't answer. We've never defined this thing between us. Never needed to. It works because we both understand the unspoken rules.
"You want to talk about it?" Eli asks, voice lazy with satisfaction.
"About what?"
He props himself up on one elbow, studying me. "Whatever had you fucking me like you were trying to exorcise something."
I sit up, reaching for my shorts. "Just blowing off steam."
"This about the new cox?"
My muscles tense. "Why would it be?"
"Because you've been wound tighter than Gray's ass since she arrived." He sits up, draping his arms over his knees. His analytical mind never stops working, even now. "And because your shoulder was fine until she pointed it out."
"She doesn't know what she's talking about," I mutter, pulling on my shirt.
"Her technique adjustment worked though, didn't it?" Eli watches me closely. "I saw your power numbers on the erg."
I don't answer, which is answer enough.
"You know," he continues, "for someone who claims to ignore her, you spent the entire practice watching her."
"I watch all coxswains. Professional interest."
Eli snorts. "Right. And I solve differential equations for fun." He reaches for his own clothes. "Something about her sets you off. What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing named Meredith, maybe?"
"Don't."
Eli's expression softens. "It was three years ago, Jackson. Not every Omega is going to—"
"She's a Beta," I snap.
"Is she? Because sometimes the way you look at her..." He pauses. "I've never seen anyone so careful about physical distance. Have you noticed she stays at least five feet from every Alpha on the team?"
"So she values personal space. Smart girl."
"Maybe." Eli pulls on a t-shirt. "Or maybe there's something she doesn't want us to smell."
My mind flashes to that brief moment on the water, the hint of something sweet beneath the neutralizing soap. A scent that bypassed my brain and went straight to my gut.
"You're imagining things," I say, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"For a run."
"It's getting dark."
"I have good night vision."
Eli sighs. "Jackson. Whatever you're running from, it'll still be there when you get back."
I pause, hand on the doorknob. "Not running from anything."
"Liar," he says softly. But he doesn't try to stop me.
Outside, the campus is settling into evening quiet. I set off at a punishing pace, letting physical exertion drown out thought. Past the academic buildings, around the stadium, down toward the lake path.
I don't think about Callahan. About the way she commands a boat full of Alphas like she was born to it. About the hint of a scent that shouldn't bother me but does.
I don't think about Meredith. About bonds formed and broken. About trust betrayed.
I run until my lungs burn and my legs tremble, until there's nothing in my head but the rhythm of feet against pavement and the sound of my own breathing.
But even then, I can't outrun the certainty that grows with each step: Reese Callahan is hiding something. And whatever it is, it's going to cause problems I'm not ready to face again.
When I return to the team house, sweaty and momentarily empty of thought, the first thing I see is Callahan's notebook on the common room table. She must have left it after reviewing race footage with Gray.
I should leave it alone. Should respect privacy.
Instead, I find myself flipping through pages of precise handwriting. Technical notes on each rower. Course diagrams. Race strategies.
And tucked between the last pages, a small paper calendar marked with red X's. At the bottom of the page, a note: Order refills by 3/15. CRITICAL.
My stomach drops as the pieces click into place. The careful distance. The neutral scent. The watchful eyes.
I close the notebook, replacing it exactly as I found it.
So that's her secret. The one Eli suspects. The one I've been sensing but refusing to acknowledge.
Our new coxswain isn't a Beta.
She's an Omega on suppressants.
And if her calendar is accurate, she's going to run out in less than two weeks, right in the middle of our first competition of the season.