“We’ll get her,” Arlo murmurs against my mouth, thumb stroking my jaw. “Okay? But you gotta ease up on the growly shit, or you’re gonna spook her.”
I nod, gently stroking my hands up and down his sides as my knot comes down. “I know.”
The moment devolves into sweet kisses until he’s able to pull off of me, returning to sitting beside me. Sated, I can finallybreathe, Arlo smiling as the bus pulls into the hotel parking lot. “Now let’s grab our girl for cuddles.”
We wait until everyone else files off the bus, coach giving us a look as I swipe our room key and disappear onto the second level. Then Arlo pulls out his phone and fires off a quick text. Parker slips into our room ten minutes later, still in her road jersey and shorts.
She stops just inside the door and inhales. Her nose wrinkles. “It smells like sex in here.”
Arlo laughs, already stripped down to boxers, patting the middle of the king bed. “Get in here, baby. Fox needs cuddles after his little jealous episode.”
Parker’s eyes flick to me before discarding her shorts and crawling onto the bed between us without hesitation. I pull her back against my chest while Arlo tucks himself against her front, hand sliding under her shirt to rest on her stomach.
She sighs, melting into us. “You two are ridiculous. Wait... did you have sex on the bus?”
Arlo nuzzles her neck, pressing a kiss there. “Fox’s knot is fantastic, by the way. You should try it sometime.”
Parker goes still, then lets out a breathless little laugh. “Tomorrow, maybe. Not tonight. I’m sore from the game… and from the last four nights.”
I huff a quiet laugh against her hair, tension finally bleeding out of my shoulders. Arlo’s eyes meet mine over her head, catching the same thought running through my head.
This stopped being casual days ago.
And I’m not sure any of us want it to go back.
parker
Thefieldisstillbuzzing with leftover energy when we finally call it a day. Practice ran long, but nobody’s complaining. We’re all sticky with sweat and grass stains, cleats clacking as we head toward the picnic tables behind the dugout where someone, probably Theo, set up a couple of coolers and a ridiculous spread of snacks.
Harlow’s already perched on Theo’s lap like she belongs there, one arm looped around his neck while he feeds her a strawberry. She’s mated, glowing, and completely unashamed about it. Her scent mingles with Theo’s smoky bourbon in the sweetest way. I try not to stare, but my chest does that stupid little twist anyway.
Arlo drops onto the bench beside me, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders. “You see that relay in the seventh, baby? You and Jamal looked like you were reading each other’s minds out there.”
I lean into him before I can stop myself. “That’s because Jamal actually listens when I yell at him. Unlikesomepitchers I know.”
Fox settles on my other side, close enough that his scent wraps around me like a hug. His hand finds the back of my neck, thumb stroking once, his version of hello. “You’re just mad I called that curveball perfect.”
“I’m mad you looked smug as hell about it,” I shoot back, but I’m grinning.
The whole team is here, sprawled across the tables, laughing and shoving each other. Harlow catches my eye and winks. “Parker, you’re blushing again. Arlo and Fox been teasing you on the field or what?”
“Always,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s their favorite hobby.”
Arlo’s grin turns wicked. “Only because you make the cutest noises when we do it right.”
Fox doesn’t say anything, but his fingers tighten gently on my neck, and I feel the low rumble in his chest. The team howls with laughter as Jamal nearly chokes on his Gatorade. They have absolutely no idea the sounds I make when theydo it right.
Harlow leans forward, Theo’s arms still wrapped around her waist. “Y’all are ridiculous. But cute. Real cute.”
Theo kisses her temple and murmurs something that makes her laugh softly. The easy way they touch, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, hits me harder than it should. I want that. I want to sit on one of my Alphas’ laps after practice, steal kisses without worrying who’s watching, and let my scent mix with theirs so everyone knows exactly who I belong to.
But we’re not that.
We’re casual. Nights and stolen moments and “just fun.” Nothing more. I watch them wash off my scent every morning in the shower, and even though I know they’ll be coating themselves in my scent and slick that evening... It’s not the same.
My stomach twists. Arlo must feel me tense because he squeezes my shoulder. “Hey. You good?”
Before I can answer, the conversation shifts and someone brings up the dare from last summer.
