“This is so unfair,” I grumble, glancing at Santo’s ass as he bends over to reduce the temperature in the oven. He’s just doing this on purpose at this point.
“I was absolutely going to fuck you, but the team would find me knot deep in you.”
“Not the best first impression,” I sigh. “I’m going to run upstairs and change.”
“I love these shorts though,” Santo says with a chuckle as he glances over at me.
“Rude,” I grunt, not bothering to fix my open shorts as I walk out of the kitchen. As far as I know, it’s still just us.
Knowing that’s apt to change soon, I jog up the stairs and into the room I’m sharing with Miles. He says it was built as a pack bedroom, but since he was single when he bought it, he didn’t pay any attention to the setup.
There’s a giant bed in the middle of the room, along with three doors in front of it that could be closets. Miles told me at one point, he considered making one into an office, but he doesn’t work enough at a desk for that to work.
Instead, one is his closet, and the other is mine. I packed my things up the day we went to see my dad, and then slept most of the drive to Nashville. I’m still in the process of unpacking, despite not bringing more than clothes, computer, and personal items.
Biting my lip, I open the door to the far right, stepping inside to view the inside of it. It has a sloped ceiling, and I lean against the wall to think about if I could make this my nest. I’ll have to mention it to Miles later.
Snapping myself out of my day dreaming, I close the door behind me and pull off my clothes. Tossing them in the hamper, I dig through my bags for a cropped lace top and a maxi length skirt. It’ll be loose, cute, and still allow me to feel comfortable.
Regardless of what I know, I’m still careful about how I dress. I know that the male gaze should know better than to look anywhere near a claimed omega, but my previous experiences tell me to cling to what makes me feel safest. Changing my panties for something that wicks away slick and scent, I dress quickly, and slip on a pair of sandals instead of boots. Fixing my hair, I brush it out and then pile it into a loose bun at the top of my head.
“Caelia!” Miles yells up the stairs, telling me that I’ve definitely spent too much time up here.
Well, my mind tends to wander. Oops.
Hurrying out the door, I curse, turning to grab a wide brimmed hat for the sun. Carrying it in my hand, I yell, “Headed down!”
I don’t see anyone as I walk quickly down the stairs, making sure not to slip. The door opens and I hear people talking loudlyas they enter the house. I’m just standing there awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what to do.
If I keep going, I’ll be surrounded by huge hockey players. Nope, I’m going to wait until it’s safe for me to avoid them until I’m introduced. Call me crazy, but this is how my anxiety ridden brain works.
The scent of cinnamon rolls gets closer to me, and my gaze moves up to see that Levon is moving in to envelop me in his arms.
“Hey guys,” Levon says, effectively hiding me with his body. Relaxing against him, I breathe him in. Yes, this is what I need.
“Hey, Levon,” someone says. “Are you going to tell me who you’re hiding, or tell us to get fucked and find Coach?”
“Get fucked,” my alpha grunts. “Coach is outside grilling. Go see if he needs any help and help yourself to a drink. Santo is in the kitchen I think.”
“That’s very domestic of you all,” another player mutters before continuing on.
Levon’s fingers push my chin up to look at him before his lips come crushing down on mine. Moaning, I lean up onto my toes to get closer.
“Better now?” he breathes, stealing my next breath until I’m grinning at him. He’s grounding me with his scent, body, and touch.
“Yes, thank you,” I murmur.
People continue walking in, but I feel as if we’re caught in a little bubble by the stairs. Half the players don’t even notice us.
“Who is Caelia?” a voice calls out, making me peek out.
“What does the coach want, Rhett?” Levon asks, turning us slightly.
“He told me he wanted his girl,” Rhett grins. “Is she hiding?”
“Little bit,” Levon says. “Don’t be mean.”
Raking his fingers through his short red hair, he nods unrepentantly. “Never am. I don’t think we’re particularly scary, though.”
