"Oh." His voice drips with mock realization. "So my little brother has an obsession, huh? The quiet virgin goalie finally found himself something worth fighting for."
Etienne's arm tightens around me. I can feel how badly he wants to launch himself at Bastien and start throwing punches. Can feel the restraint it is taking to hold himself back.
Please do not fight. Please do not fight over me. I am not worth getting suspended over, and I really do not want to explain to Miss Phillip why there is blood on the pathway.
The door behind us swings open with a dramatic creak.
"Is there a problem here?"
Miss Phillip's voice cuts through the testosterone-fueled standoff like a bucket of ice water. She is standing in the doorway of the dorm, tablet clutched to her chest, one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched so high it is practically touching her hairline.
Her gaze sweeps over the scene before her: me pressed against Etienne's chest, his arm still wrapped protectively around my waist, Bastien looming a few feet away with murder in his eyes.
Behind her, I can see Rafe and Cal.
They are both standing with their arms crossed, expressions sullen, postures radiating the specific energy of people who haverecently been thoroughly and humiliatingly scolded. Rafe has a fresh bruise forming on his cheekbone, purple already blooming across that sharp bone structure. Cal's lip is split, a thin line of dried blood visible at the corner of his mouth.
Wait. Were they fighting? With each other?
Miss Phillip surveys the tableau with the weary patience of someone who deals with Alpha drama on a daily basis and is thoroughly sick of it.
"I am sorry to break up whatever family reunion is happening here," she says, her tone making it clear she is not sorry at all, "but can Miss Rose please be allowed into her dorm so we can finalize things?" She checks her watch pointedly. "I have meetings to attend and paperwork to file. I do not have time to referee sibling rivalries or whatever this is."
She gestures vaguely at all of us.
Bastien takes a step back, finally releasing any lingering claim on my space. The imprint of his fingers throbs dully against my wrist, and I resist the urge to rub it.
"Miss Phillip?" I step forward, reluctantly leaving the warmth of Etienne's protective hold. "Why are you here? I already got my schedule from the administrative office."
"Ah, yes." She waves a hand dismissively. "I forgot to explain some house rules during our earlier tour. Very important rules about quiet hours, shared spaces, bathroom schedules, and the general expectation that residents will not try to murder each other."
Her eyes slide meaningfully to Rafe and Cal.
"Rules that some residents seem to need reminding of already."
Rafe's jaw clenches. Cal has the decency to look embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with his uninjured hand.
I frown, looking between them more closely. Now that I am paying attention, I can see more signs of a recent scuffle.Rafe's knuckles are red and slightly swollen. There is a tear in the collar of Cal's hoodie. Both of them smell like adrenaline, barely suppressed aggression, and the aftermath of physical confrontation.
"What happened?" I ask, genuine curiosity overriding caution. "Were you two fighting?"
"It is none of your damn business," Rafe snaps, his storm-gray eyes flashing with irritation. His arms cross tighter over his chest, defensive and hostile.
Ah. There is the asshole I remember. Good to know he has not completely changed.
I should probably let it go. Should probably just walk inside and pretend I did not notice anything. That would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing. The thing that would not poke the already-angry bear.
But the scared little girl inside me is still trembling from Bastien's grip on my wrist, and I am feeling petty.
So instead of backing down, I smirk.
"Let me guess," I say, letting my voice drip with false sympathy. "You lost, huh? Sucks."
Rafe's face goes through approximately seventeen expressions in two seconds. Shock. Outrage. More outrage. Disbelief. A hint of grudging respect that he immediately smothers.
"I did NOT?—"
Cal bursts out laughing, cutting off his protest.
