“Of course,” I reply, trying to keep things light. “Though I’m starting to think you enjoy watching me miss the ball more than teaching me how to hit it.”
He doesn’t respond to the joke, just hands me a tennis racket. His usual banter, the easygoing teasing that makes these lessons fun, is conspicuously absent. Concern flickers through me as I step onto the court, gripping the racket a little tighter.
He doesn’t say another word before he strides over to the ball launcher and turns it on. I land the first one and expect his normal easy going comments to start. Like,‘Great job!’or‘Nice volley.’or maybe even,‘A little tight on that hit, loosen up.’but none of that comes from his mouth.
I try to focus on the balls being lobbed my way, but it’s hard with the scowl on his face as he watches me. By the time I’m dripping with sweat from hitting almost every ball, I’m so on edge from the energy in the air that I might break in half. Add in the fact that he keeps staring off into the distance, clearly somewhere else mentally, and my concern about him heightens.
I pause, letting the next ball hit the ground and bounce two more times before rolling into the fence. He doesn’t say a word. I miss again, on purpose, and no correction comes.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, as I drop my racket to my side. “You feel off.”
He focuses on me, his expression softening slightly, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his eyes. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I do worry,” I insist gently, trying to catch his eye. “I’m your friend. If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me. Maybe I can help?”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair as he looks away. “It’s nothing, really. Just some old stuff resurfacing. I’ll be fine.”
Before I can press further, the sound of footsteps approaching from behind makes us both turn. My heart skips a beat when I see Chad sauntering toward us, that familiar, confident grin plastered on his face. His presence is magnetic,pulling all the air out of the space between us as he draws nearer. I feel an involuntary flush rise to my cheeks, my heart rate picking up without my permission.
I’m not sure what it is about this omega but my whole body comes alive when he’s around. It never fails that my perfume makes an appearance, not that it’s very strong, but I can smell it. Dean and Chad would probably be able to smell it if one of them sniffed my neck. And that thought alone has goosebumps traveling down my spine.
Chad stops on the other side of the fence, his fingers threading through the chainlink. “Lakelyn, I was hoping I’d see you this morning.” His voice is smooth and comforting, but his dark eyes glint with mischief as he shifts his gaze to Dean beside me. He doesn’t greet Dean, in fact, he dismisses him similarly to how he dismissed Mason last night. He has a way of making me feel like I’m the only person that he can see, and it is a little addictive.
I can feel Dean’s posture stiffen beside me, the air around us growing thicker with tension. “Chad,” Dean says, his eyes narrowing as he regards him. “Didn’t expect to see you out here.”
“Couldn’t resist,” Chad replies, flashing a grin that only makes Dean’s expression harden. “Lakelyn’s quickly becoming my favorite beta.” My cheeks heat at his words, and I duck my head.
Dean steps closer, almost protectively, and I catch a whiff of his musk. It has a bite to it, the clean scent of rain and the subtle sweetness of wildflowers smells more like an oncoming storm than the cleansing aftermath of one. “She doesn’t need your distraction. We were in the middle of a lesson.”
Chad’s smile widens, and he unlinks his fingers from the chainlink and moves to the door, taking a casual step toward Dean and onto the court. “Relax, Dean. Just here to watch.Maybe you should lighten up a little, yeah?” He drags his eyes from Dean’s chest up to his eyes and holds his stare.
Dean’s jaw tightens as he closes the distance between them, stepping into Chad really, his tone brokering no argument. “This lesson is for my students, Chad. And right now, that means it’s closed to any outside observers.”
Chad’s smile falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers, his gaze shifting back to me with a glint of mischief he falls back a step. “Your students? Got it.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his head in my direction. “I’ll see you later.”
The promise in his voice and the intense look in his eyes before shifting his attention back to Dean, lingering just a bit on him, have butterflies explode in my stomach.
I give a quick wave and a small smile.
Dean’s voice, though steady, carries a hint of the frustration he’s trying to suppress. “Let’s get back to it. Focus on your serve.”
Hours later,Landon lounges on a chair on the other side of the counter watching me as I prepare us dinner. He invited Mason, but he said he had things to do. I try to pretend that it isn’t because of our conversation last night. But I know it is.
“You know you could always move back home," Landon says, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tapping idly on the table. "I don’t understand your obsession with paying for everything on your own. Dad will open that shop you want. Just ask him.”
I roll my eyes as Landon starts on a familiar topic, wiping my hands on a dishtowel before tossing it onto the counter. “I want to do it myself. It feels good to pay for all of the stuff I want.”
“You sound like Mason,” he grumbles, taking a swig from his beer bottle, the glass clinking softly as he sets it back down.
Opening the stove, I hide another eye roll as I slide the tray in, the heat brushing against my face. “That’s because he doesn’t have a choice.”
“I’d give him cash.” Landon shrugs, his tone nonchalant, but there's a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
“For being my twin, you really are clueless.” I shake my head, the irritation bubbling up as I close the oven door with a bit more force than necessary.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he leans forward, clearly not liking where this is headed.
I sigh and turn to face him. “Landon, just because you’re best friends with Mason doesn’t mean he wants handouts. He’s too proud for that, you know that. He’d never take your money, no matter how well-intentioned.”
