Then add how his whole body goes rigid, like he's bracing for impact.
"MaeBell?" His voice cracks. "You're—holy shit. You'reher."
Uh…what’s that supposed to mean?
"Surprise." I give a little jazz-hands wave, channeling every bit of sarcasm I've honed over thirteen years of therapy and self-preservation. "The nerdy girl you tormented? All grown up. Glow-up achieved. Andnotinterested in whatever Alpha-possessive bullshit you're selling."
But he doesn't back off.
If anything, he steps closer, and now I can feel the heat radiating off his ridiculous body like a furnace, can smell the guilt threading through his scent like copper wire—sharp and metallic and unmistakable.
"I didn't—I was a stupid kid. I didn't know?—"
"Save it." I duck under his arm, my heart hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears. "I need to get my stuff and get out of here. Preferably before any more of your teammates decide to assault me with frozen beverages."
The door rattles behind me, and a new voice calls out:
"Rafe? You decent?"
The door swings open before anyone can answer, and in walks another wall of Alpha muscle—broad shoulders, warm brown skin, amber eyes that crinkle at the corners like he's always on the verge of a smile. His scent hits me like a warm hug:fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and oak. Cozy and comforting and devastatingly attractive.
Callahan 'Cal' Graham Knox.
Graduate teaching assistant.
Volunteer tutor.
Known across campus for his patience and his dimples and his tendency to make every Omega within a mile radius swoon.
Also, apparently, my second childhood bully.
Why, when I read up there bio’s and got glimpses of their faraway professional team photos, did it not click in sooner? Maybe because I buried it so deep in my mind that it only now surfaced and says, ‘remember me’.
Fuck my life…
His gaze lands on me, and hefreezes.
Like someone hit pause on reality. His nostrils flare, his pupils dilate, and a sound escapes him that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper—primal and raw and achingly vulnerable.
"Holy..."
"Cal." Rafe's voice is strangled. "This is?—"
"I know who she is." Cal's amber eyes haven't left my face. They trace over my features like he's memorizingthem, cataloguing every detail. "Mabeline Mae Rose. Our new roommate."
Wait. What?
"Your—" I look between them, horror dawning like a bad sitcom reveal.Wait. Did they say THEY were gonna be my roommates? Alphas?No…wait…they did…mention that, didn’t they? Fuck! Why is my brain so frazzled that I’m not sure? I bet its the damn Alpha pheromones or some shit. "No. No…The housing office said I'd be rooming with three other students?—"
What do you do in situations that you’re begging to run to the hills from?
Deny. Deny. Deny.
"Three Alphas." Cal's dimples appear, but they look more like an apology than a charm. "Pack integration trial housing. They didn't tell you?"
Fuck.
Double Fuck.
