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“Do you think one of them is going to drown?” I fret.
“Eh.” Meg chomps into a tortilla chip that’s full of queso. “I think it’s more likely one of them will end up with a black eye.”
I might smile, remembering Damon’s shiner the day we first met. But, at the moment, I’m worried my trouble-maker alpha is going to crush Cassian.
Archer watches the mayhem unfolding in their pool and shakes his head. He removes his glasses to clean them with the hem of his white linen shirt, muttering, “You’d think they would pick something a little more dignified to humiliate themselves with. This just feels… obvious.”
“We can—” Declan’s head gets dunked under the pool water, interrupting his shout. He reemerges ten seconds later, snarling, “—hear you!”
“Good,” Archer chips back. “This is embarrassing.”
Theo whoops, his tree-trunk thighs flexing around Declan’s head while his shorty-short pink swim trunks bunch at the other alpha’s ears. Meg snorts quietly into her margarita, wincing. “Dec probably should have been on top.”
That was my alphas’ strategy. Which is how Damon ended up on Cassian’s very broad, very bare shoulders, duking it out with Theo. To say the big tight-end is “balanced” on his quarterback packmate’s shoulders would be a generous way of putting it.
I lean closer to Meg. “There’s a good joke here, somewhere. They’re playing chicken, but it’s an actual cock fight?”
She grins. “Close enough. Still, you can’t complain about a view like this, right?”
She has a point. Even if my preheat hormones weren’t running rampant, I couldn’t complain about a swimming pool full of gorgeous, half-naked, pro-athlete alphas. Wrestling. And wet.
Fanning my face, I sip my drink until the straw sucks on air. A solid palm lands on my shoulder, kneading the skin under the thin strap of my white sundress before skimming down my arm.
“Here, angel,” Smith rumbles, stepping into my back. He wraps his arm at my waist, passes me a new drink, and bends to purr in my ear, “Are you feeling all right?” He nuzzles my neck. “You smell very all right.”
My heat perfume started this morning. The old Remi wouldn’t have even noticed, having no reason to get excited.
But now? I gave myself away before I even got out of bed.
Though, I refuse to believe that was my fault. Smith must have known how sexy he looked in that navy suit before he wore it to bring me my coffee. And the way Damon rubs his daily Good Morning Wood into my backside just isn’t even fair. Not to mention all of Cassian’s broad-chested yumminess being the first thing I see when I open my eyes.
Now that Smith sleeps in my bed, too, we’ve had to start up a rotation. But even when it isn’t his turn to hold me or wrap around me from behind, he’s always there. And he always wakes up before the rest of us to bring me coffee.
He told me, on one of our date nights, that he sees it as a way to make up for how he acted when I worked at Proper Coffee. When I asked him how long he plans to go on doing it, he told me he figures we’ll be even sometime around our eighties. I laughed and told him his eighties would be a long time before mine. Which earned me a spanking when we got home.
Ronan comes up behind Meg, and Archer subtly moves away. My best friend rolls her eyes at them, casting me a look. I hide a giggle in my drink.
She has a point.
These alphas are ridiculous. Even happily bonded, with another pack in their house, the Ash pack alphas feel the need to keep one man at Meg’s side at all times.
And my alphas are worse. I’m sure that has something to do with my heat perfume, and the fact that they can’t “feel” me yet. But Smith hasn’t left my shadow since the others got in the pool.
I wore my swimsuit, intending to go in with them, but the cramping in my lower abdomen has me feeling less-than athletic. The guys have asked me a thousand times if I’m in pain. And even though I’ve mostly broken my fibbing habit, I haven’t been totally honest with them about this.
The playoffs start in two days. And I refuse to be in heat for the first week of games the Timberwolves have to win to continue to the next leg. Because I refuse to put Damon in that position with everything that’s going on.
You hear me? I tell my Omega. I REFUSE.
All I get back is a snort of derision, along with a mental image of all three of my alphas, naked, in my nest, and attending to my every whim.
So that’s going well.
Bitch.
Damon shoves Theo hard and finally sends him careening off Declan’s shoulders. He hits the water with a mighty thwack! The pool sloshes around, while Cassian ducks down to get D off him. Damon whoops victoriously, coming right over to me.
Holyyyyyyy….
