Jamal points at me and Fox. “Still can’t believe you two actually did it. Matching tattoos because Arlo said you wouldn’t.”
I laugh, grateful for the distraction. It was after a brutal double-header last July. We were all drunk on cheap beer and victory, sprawled in Arlo’s apartment. Arlo had been teasing us for weeks about how Fox and I were “basically married already” and too scared to admit it. He bet us twenty bucks and bragging rights that we wouldn’t get matching tattoos.
Fox had looked at me, raised one eyebrow, and said, “You in, Ellis?”
I’d been buzzing with adrenaline, and the way they were both looking at me. “Hell yes.”
We ended up at a late-night shop. Fox got a small, stylized baseball stitch on his left pec. I got the exact same one on my right hip, hidden under my uniform most days, but always there. Arlo had laughed his ass off the whole time, but the second we walked out of that shop, he’d looked at both of us like we hung the moon.
Back at the picnic tables, Arlo’s voice pulls me out of the memory. “Best money I ever spent,” he declares, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Now every time Parker slides into second, I get to remember she’s got my favorite dare permanently on her body.”
Fox’s hand slides from my neck down my spine, stopping just above the waistband of my shorts where the tattoo sits. “Mine too,” he says quietly, only for me.
My heart does a stupid little flip. Harlow grins at me across the table, Theo’s chin resting on her shoulder. “You two are sogone for each other it’s disgusting. Well, actually all three of you. When are you making that shit official?”
I force a laugh and shrug like it’s nothing. “It’s just fun.”
The words taste wrong the second they leave my mouth. Because I don’t just want the nights anymore. I want the casual touches in front of the team. I want Arlo to kiss me in the middle of the dugout without turning it into a joke. I want to stop pretending this is temporary.
I wantmore.
Fox’s hand finds my thigh under the table, squeezing once. His voice is low, just for me. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”
I look up at him, at the soft edge in his usually intense eyes, and feel that longing swell in my chest until it’s almost painful. I smile anyway. “I’m perfect.”
He studies me for a second longer, thumb stroking slow circles on my leg, but he doesn’t push. Arlo leans in on my other side, pressing a quick, playful kiss to my temple before returning his attention to something Theo says.
And for a moment, surrounded by the team’s laughter and the warm evening air, I let myself pretend that maybe, this could be more than casual.
Harlow shoots me a knowing glance across the tables but I just shake my head. Both Alphas currently touching me told me this was all in fun but my body wants more.Iwant more. And I already know the moment this ends, it’s going to be my heart breaking first.
parker
ThebackrowofEcon 301 has turned into the claimed-Omegas’ unofficial therapy session. I slide into the seat between Milo and Avery, backpack thumping against the chair, and immediately feel three sets of eyes on me. Harlow’s a few seats down, already smiling at her phone like Theo just sent her something filthy while Kit is sprawled sideways in his chair like he owns the row.
All four of them are already mated, funnily enough from the previous auctions that Knotlocke Academy holds. Every time we congregate, I’m reminded how scandalous this campus is and how strange we are for auctioning off Alpha athletes in order to raise money for our sports.
It works but it always ends with someone mated.
Usually multiple.
If Fox or Arlo ever fucking...I stop myself and straighten my face.
Milo leans in before I even get my notebook out. “Parker, you smell like a walking dessert cart again. Pineapple-caramel and cedarwood all over you. Arlo and Fox?”
My cheeks heat instantly. “It’s just fun.”
Avery bumps my shoulder with his. “That’s what I used to say about Declan. Remember? I told everyone it was just a stupid stepbrother crush until I was literally bidding on him at the auction and realizing I was in love.”
Kit snorts. “I mated my fucking bully. So yeah, ‘just fun’ is a bold claim.”
Milo grins, his whole face scrunching up with the movement. “So? Me and my brother mated our coach’s daughter. Besides, isn’t your bookkeeper mated to one of the players?” He nods toward Harlow, who’s now openly laughing at whatever Theo texted her. “Harlow and Theo didn’t start with a polite little dinner date either.”
Harlow glances over and winks. “He’s right. Sometimes casual turns into ‘I can’t breathe without you’ faster than you expect.”
I fidget with my pen, heart thumping hard against my ribs. The truth is clawing at me. Every night I spend tangled between Arlo and Fox feels less like casual fun and more like the only place I want to be. I keep telling myself it’s just sex, just comfort, just the three of us blowing off steam after games. But then I see Harlow sitting on Theo’s lap at team hangouts, or Avery curled into Declan’s side like he belongs there, and something ugly and jealous twists in my chest.
I want that.
