Wearing a stranger's jersey that smells like pine and promises.
Facing down a naked Prime Alpha who's looking at me like I just committed treason against his crown.
"I asked you a question." Rafe stalks forward, and my back hits the door with a thud that echoes through my spine.
Up close, he's even more devastating—sharp jawline dusted with playoff stubble, that tiny scar through his left eyebrow making him look like trouble wrapped in muscle wrapped in pure, concentrated Alpha energy. His cedar-smoke scent spikes with something darker.
Possessive.
Hungry.
Lickable…
And why the hell am I thinking that?
"Whose. Jersey. Is. That."
"Back off, Captain Naked." I lift my chin, bickering instincts kicking in despite the way my body is staging a full-scale rebellion.
Slick gathering between my thighs—traitor—cheeks flushing with heat that has nothing to do with embarrassment.
Omega hindbrain screamingMATE MATE MATElike a deranged parrot on a loop.
I swear I’m a fucking mess and school hasn’t even started…
"Some psycho drenched me in slushie because apparently you're the hottest commodity on campus, and one of your teammates was decent enough to loan me something dry. Unlikesomepeople, who clearly don't know how to put on pants. Or a towel. Or basic human decency!"
His eyes darken to midnight.
A low growl vibrates through him, and the sound goes straight to places it has no business visiting—low in my belly, between my legs, into the marrow of my bones.
"You're wearing Laurent's scent." He takes another step, close enough now that I can feel the heat radiating off his ridiculous body, can count the water droplets still clinging to his collarbone. His fingers brush the collar of the jersey, and electricity crackles where his skin nearly touches mine. "Inmylocker room. Looking like—" He cuts himself off, jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle tick beneath his skin.
"Like what?" I challenge, because apparently I've developed a death wish in the last fifteen minutes. "Like a drowned rat? Like a walking disaster? Like someone who didn't ask for any of this?"
"Like you belong to someone else."
The words hang between us, heavy with implications I refuse to examine.
Something tightens in my chest—not quite fear, not quite anticipation.
Should I dare think this Alpha wants me?
Laughable. I’m really cracking myself up here with these daring assumptions for my normally boring life. I guess this isthe most entertainment I’ve had happen in a hot minute, but damn.
It really would have been better if it was with complete strangers and not men who made it their life purpose to make my childhood a living hell.
"I don'tbelongto anyone." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Least of all, some arrogant puck-head who probably doesn't remember making my life a living hell back in sixth grade."
I meet his eyes, refusing to look away even as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.
"Nerdy MaeBell, go to hell—ring any bells, Captain?"
The color drains from his face like someone pulled a plug.
For one perfect, petty second, I savor it.
The way recognition slams into him like a blindside hit. How his confident smirk crumbles into something raw, horrified, and guilty.
