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But none of this is his fault, really, and actual clothing would be good. When he sees that my hands are too shaky to even take the zip-up sweatshirt, he steps closer, reaching behind my body to wrap it around me.
Every movement is gentle in a clumsy sort of way. He clearly isn’t used to this at all, but that doesn’t douse the cool determination blazing behind his features.
Once his sweatshirt is draped over my shoulders, he carefully frees my hair from the collar, almost snagging the necklace around my neck.
I forgot it was hiding under all my hair. Does the gold chain have blood on it now? Will I be able to clean it later?
Considering it’s currently my one possession apart from a red rubber bodysuit, I really hope so.
His eyes track the way I fist the charm at the end. He looks closely, his full lips ghosting up a bit.
“What do you have there, kitten?”
Even if my words worked, I wouldn’t have any. No one has ever spoken to me like this. With a cute nickname. And, moreover, like it’s a… conversation? Like I’m… interesting?
And, for all his intimidating traits, this man is beautiful. Some amalgam of angel and demon—the dark and light all twisted and smoldering and smoky.
I have no idea what I would say if I could speak, but I realize I don’t even know his name. My entire arm trembles as I try to float my empty hand up and stretch it halfway to his chest.
In a decisive move that makes me a little dizzy, he flattens his bruised, inked-up fingers over mine, spreading them against one of his hard pecs. Those light eyes stare into me, his brow creasing while he somehow reads my unspoken question.
“Avery,” he says.
Avery.
My Omega peers out of her hole again, nudging me. Telling me, even without words, that this one belongs to us, too.
Because that went so well last time, babe.
But then he flashes that lopsided smile again. “So, do you want to meet these other assholes or what?”
chapter
eleven
The first time I ever played a game in the NFL, I was as ready as I could have been.
Practices, workouts, drills. I geared up with a smug sort of pride in my chest, ready to jog out and take the field by storm.
I still remember the minute I realized how out of my league I was. Mid-stride, coming out of the tunnels, when I looked up and saw the enormous stadium, the thousands of screaming fans, the dozens of lights.
This moment feels the same.
Humbling. A little intimidating. But also completely life-changing.
Instead of stadium lights, I’m caught in the green beams of the two biggest eyes I’ve ever seen.
The rest of her is so small. Avery’s hoodie practically swallows her. I can only imagine what my clothes would look like hanging off her little body.
That thought sparks a purr in my chest. The sound is deep and rusty. It’s been ages since I purred for someone. I’d forgotten how effective it is at settling my Alpha down.
Serena seems to like it, too. Her wide, curious eyes blink at me several times as Avery crowds into her side, making space for me to step a bit closer but hovering protectively.
My mind barely has time to process that shit—Avery protecting someone—before her heavenly scent washes over us again.
Fuck. Me.
But she’s perfect.
