Chapter 8 #2
Yeah, the situation was a little weird, and Spencer hated lying to Noah and Chase like he hated anything, but everyone involved was still good people in the end, right? No one was going to chase Spencer out of town with a pitchfork or anything.
It would be chill. Everything would be fine.
Spencer shrugged off what remained of his nerves and approached the loungers with a beaming smile. Whatever else was going on, he was happy to hang. “My dudes!”
Ash and Ryder each gave him a nod, which with the sunglasses they were both wearing, kind of made them look like super in-sync secret agents. Spencer dropped his bag and checked his options. The two of them were each on their own lounger, and all the ones surrounding them were occupied.
Ash patted his. “You’re with me.”
“Cool, cool.” Spencer perched on the end, stretching his back out while he was at it.
He tried to keep his eyes off Ryder’s legs while he did, but it was a hard-won battle. They were, like, right next to him. And maybe Spencer should have been immune to the thigh tats after twelve straight hours of watching a naked Ryder fuck like a machine, but some things had staying power.
On top of that, it was already hot as hell, and it was taking an equally monstrous effort not to watch the beads of sweat drip down Ash’s lean chest.
Like, where was a horndog supposed to catch a break? Staring straight at the fucking sun?
Spencer gestured to the sparkling blue pool. “We going in?”
Ash and Ryder exchanged a glance. “In a minute,” Ash told Spencer. “We thought we should set some ground rules first.”
Ah. Chill. Cool, cool, cool. This was it, the moment they were going to be like, Hey, Spencer, don’t get stupid and catch feelings, okay? We’re in major love, and you’re just a convenient, sexy knot on a stick.
He prepared himself for the gut punch of it all—it was all about tensing the stomach muscles properly. Luckily, Spencer had very well-trained abs.
“So we’ve got the group chat,” Ash began.
He had those kind of orange-tinted sunglasses that were still see-through enough to show off his eyes, and Spencer could see that he was lazily eyeing Spencer up and down.
“If something heat related happens while I’m on my own, I’ll text SOS, and whoever’s closest comes to get me.
Then we rendezvous at the apartment, assuming we’re able to make it.
Campus Health also has heat rooms if we can’t get that far. ”
Spencer nodded with each step. Texts. Apartment. Heat rooms. “Yep, sounds good. What else?”
“We’re exclusive,” Ash said coolly, giving Spencer a sharp look.
“You and Ryder?”
Spencer didn’t get it. Was he being downgraded to a strictly advisory capacity? He tried not to be disappointed by that. It was reasonable. Totally. And he’d do it, of course. He wasn’t going to be a dick about them wanting to be true to their feelings, or whatever.
Ash rolled his eyes. “The three of us, dummy. We’re exclusive while we do this. No outside fucking. We have to use condoms for, like, birth control and shit, but I’m not going to be stressing about what else you get up to. So keep it in your pants. Or our pants. Those are your options.”
Spencer shifted in his seat. He’d been slowing down lately, but he still had a high sex drive.
And it wasn’t all about feeling good in the strictest sense.
Some of it was stress relief, a way to calm down when he got too amped up over the bullshit.
And that usually got more necessary as the semester went on.
He should just agree, but …
“But what if—” Spencer lowered his voice, even though they hadn’t exactly been quiet up until now.
Not that anyone was listening. Everyone around them was in their own world, either scrolling with headphones in or laughing and chatting with their friends.
“What if it’s, like, a really long time before the next heat hits? What if I need—”
It was Ryder who answered. “Then you call us.”
Spencer still didn’t get it. “And then what?”
“Then we take care of you.”
The rush of blood to Spencer’s dick was so strong and unexpected he almost moaned out loud. “Um …”
Ryder gave him a smirk, like he knew exactly what the effect of his words was. “Ash isn’t always in the mood, though, so it might be me.” He lowered his shades, giving Spencer a cool look over the frames. “Is that a problem?”
Had Spencer blacked out at some point? Was he in some dirty porno fantasy daydream and any minute his alarm was going to start blaring to let him know it was time to get his morning workout in?
He licked dry lips. “You’d fuck me?” he asked hoarsely.
He realized a second too late they hadn’t said anything about fucking. Maybe Ryder had only meant a handie or a blowie or something.
But Ryder nodded, sliding his shades back into place. “If you wanted.”
Jesus. Spencer’s mouth was bone-dry now, and his heart was racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say next—probably something stupid like, “What about right the fuck now?” but a shadow fell over them, and Ryder’s teasing expression shifted immediately to a blank mask.
Spencer turned to find an omega chick he’d fooled around with at the start of summer looming over him. He tipped his chin. “Sup, Marissa?”
She grinned at him, cocking a bikini-clad hip. “Spencer, thought that was you. Fancy seeing you here.”
He grinned back—Marissa was chill, and she looked damned good in a swimsuit—but before he could answer, Ash’s sharp voice cut in.
“We’re having a private fucking conversation here.”
Spencer turned in surprise to find Ash scowling fiercely, like Marissa had come in flipping the bird instead of stopping by for a friendly hello.
See? Ash wasn’t perfect. He was kind of a dick, really. If his pheromones had been hanging around still, they probably would have sharpened into something burned and bitter, like some wild animal warning off potential predators.
It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but maybe Spencer had gotten broken at some point in his sexual escapades.
Because he kind of wanted to wrap a hand around Ash’s ankle and slide it up his leg until he was cupping that pretty omega cock, maybe give him a squeeze for being such a funny, prickly little spitfire.
Marissa frowned at Ash, tugging at the strings of her tiny bikini. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”
She gave Spencer a pointed look, but he wasn’t sure what she wanted, so he just shrugged.
“Good to see you.”
She looked from him to Ash, then back again. Her brows rose. “Yeah. Sure.”
Apparently, that was that. Ash shifted his scowl to Spencer as soon as Marissa had walked away. “You always go for such big tits?”
Spencer scratched at his chest, kind of confused by the whole interaction. “I mean, tits are fun. But she’s cool. She just likes to flirt.”
“Ignore Ash,” Ryder said mildly. “I caught him sneaking coffee this morning and removed it from his clutches. He’s been a bitch ever since.”
He and Ash exchanged looks again, and then Ash shrugged, some of the tension leaving his wiry frame.
“Guilty as charged.” He leaned forward and slapped Spencer on the chest with surprising force. “Let’s race, yeah?” He dropped a look to Spencer’s swim trunks. “Unless you need Ryder’s services before we do?”
“What? No. What?” Spencer pointedly didn’t so much as glance at the alpha in question. He wasn’t thinking of thigh tats or big arm muscles or massive alpha cock. Not at all.
Ash cackled, leaping up from the lounger and pulling Spencer after him. “Then let’s go. I bet I’m a faster swimmer.”
Ryder leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle. “I’ll be here.”
His voice was as low and flat as ever, but the words still sounded sultrier than they should have. Like a dirty promise or something.
Or maybe that was all in Spencer’s head. It was getting really hard to tell anymore.
Spencer followed Ash to the lap lanes, more confused than ever. He was pretty sure ground rules had been laid, but nothing was any clearer than before.
And Ash and Ryder hadn’t said anything about Spencer not catching feelings—not once—but it must have been implied, right?
Right. They just assumed Spencer got it.
And he did. Definitely. No problem.
Everyone was totally on the same page.