I’ve had one beer. It’s enough to feel loose, but not enough to dull anything.
“Still can’t believe you tried to play through that,” Connor says, jerking his bottle toward Theo. “You went into the boards like a martyr.”
Theo snorts. “I was fine.”
“You were horizontal.”
“Briefly.”
Beau huffs, shaking his head. “You’re benched for a reason.”
“I know. And I get it.” Theo shrugs one shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
I smile without thinking, watching the way they move around each other—affectionate without being showy. There’s an undercurrent there that feels pack-deep. Something old and instinctual, humming quietly beneath the banter.
I didn’t grow up with this kind of belonging, and yet, it feels…easy.
I sink back into the couch as my gaze drifts across the room to where Theo sits in the armchair, his long legs stretched out, his posture deceptively relaxed.
But I know better.
He’s quiet, but his eyes don’t miss a thing. They track the way Beau’s hand curls over the cushion behind me, the shift in my breathing when I laugh a little too easily at something ridiculous Connor just said, the subtle tilt of my head when I scent the room without even thinking about it.
Theo noticeseverything,and I shouldn’t be thinking about it, but the thought slips in before I can stop it.
I wouldn’t mind him.
It’s not a plan. It’s not even a fantasy. It’s just a reaction: one I feel down to my bones.
Still, the second it forms, my body responds.
Beau notices first, which is… unsurprising. His head turns a fraction, those glacier-blue eyes flicking down to me with a look that’s half question, half warning. The bond between us tightens, a pulse of restrained dominance laced with curiosity, and my skin prickles.
I don’t respond out loud, but I don’t have to.
The heat beneath my skin answers for me.
It’s Connor who reacts next. He’s grinning at the screen, but then he goes still. His nostrils flare, and his head tips slightly as he looks in my direction.
His smile turns sharper.
“Anyone else smell that?” he asks casually, voice rougher than before.
I feel myself flush.
“Little omega’s getting all worked up.”
Beau’s thigh presses more firmly against mine, unmistakably possessive.
Theo shifts slightly in his chair, and one hand curls tighter around the armrest. His gaze lingers on my mouth just a beat too long before flicking away, and my heartpounds.
“You like being the center of attention, don’t you?” Connor murmurs. “Sitting there between us, smelling like slick and curiosity. It’s… it’s kinda fuckinghot.”
“Connor.”
There’s warning in Beau’s tone, but there’s no real fire behind it. There can’t be: not when he’s gripping the couch like he’s barely holding himself in check.
Not whenhesmells just as affected.
