By the time regular practice ends, my shoulders are burning and Hollis looks like someone wrung him out by hand. He’s hanging on the wall in lane four with his cap shoved up, hair dripping into his eyes, and a grin that keeps trying to prove he’s fine.
“You look like boiled lettuce,” I tell Hollis.
Hollis lifts one wet hand from the gutter and lets it flop back down. “Sexy boiled lettuce?”
“Do not make me regret my sympathy for you.”
Bishop crouches near the wall and catches Hollis by the chin before he can sink lower. “You did two practices, baby. You’re done.” His eyes flick to me before I can hide the way I’m leaning against the timing chair. “So are you.”
“I’m standing.”
“Poorly.”
Nelson chooses that moment to drift too close, towel around his shoulders and mouth already forming the shape of a mistake. “So are you three dating now, or is this just a very intense swim rehabilitation program?”
I stare at him. “Nelson, I know where the spare resistance bands are, and I can make your next dryland session biblical.”
He retreats, but not before grinning at Hollis like he’s proud of himself. Hollis looks absurdly pleased, which almost makes me want to shove him back into the pool.
Reece is by the benches with Tate, slow to gather his bag. He hasn’t said much since I started getting back in the water, which would be more comforting if silence didn’t look so smug on him. His gaze moves from Hollis to Bishop, then lands on me. “Guess everyone loves a comeback story.”
The deck goes quieter than it should, though I’m not backing down for that guy. “Do you need me to sign something for you, Reece? You’re watching hard enough.”
His mouth tightens. “I’m saying don’t embarrass yourself.”
“Too late. I’ve been talking to you for almost a minute.”
Someone snorts near the locker room. Reece’s eyes flick toward the sound, and the second he looks away first, the tightness in my chest loosens. Bishop’s hand settles at the back of my neck, light but there, and Hollis' purr rumbles from the pool before he seems to realize he’s doing it.
Marsh opens his office door. “Reece. Locker room.”
Reece leaves with Tate behind him, neither of them looking back. Then I turn my attention to Bishop and Hollis, trying to figure out what’s next. Bishop offers me a small smile. “I need to get food into both of you and I can not carry either of you if you end up passing out.”
I sigh, knowing I’ll probably regret offering. “My dorm’s just across the way...” I trail off, not trying to make a big deal about it.
Hollis leans into him, wet and heavy and still trying to smile at me. “I vote the diner for breakfast.”
“You don’t get a vote. You look like a Victorian child with a tragic cough.”
“That sounds delicate. I’ve always wanted to be delicate.”
Bishop gives him a look. “You’re six-five.”
“Emotionally delicate,” Hollis says, and because he looks like he might actually fall over, I grab my hoodie and lead them out before I can think too hard about what it means to take them to my room.
My dorm looks smaller with Bishop and Hollis in it. That’s the first problem. The second problem is the nest in the corner, which I remember one second too late. Blankets, hoodies, one good pillow, and an ugly heavy throw I keep because pressure helps when scent doesn’t. Other Omegas probably have nests that smell like mates or pack or whatever home is supposed to be. Mine is texture and weight and things arranged exactly where my body expects them.
Nobody has seen it before, well not since my roommate moved out.
I stop in the doorway hard enough that Hollis almost bumps into me. Bishop stays behind him, one hand braced at his waist, and waits. Hollis, exhausted and apparently determined to die charming, peers over my shoulder. “I promise not to shed chlorine on anything sacred.”
“That depends. Are you capable of not dripping on every surface you encounter?”
He shakes his head as Bishop’s mouth curves. “We can leave.”
The offer makes the room tilt in a different way. It would be easier if he pushed. If Hollis looked needy, or Bishop looked expectant, or either of them made me feel cornered. Instead, they stand there giving me the exit while Hollis sways slightly on his feet.
I sigh and step inside. “Get in before the delicate Victorian collapses.”
