Page 48 of Final Drive

Her door’s still shut when I get there. I knock lightly.

“Reese? It’s Bo.”

Nothing.

I wait.

“I’m not here about strategy. I made sweet tea, the real kind, not that powder Zane keeps buying. Thought you might want some.”

The quiet goes on long enough that I’m about to leave it. Then I hear footsteps, and the door opens a few inches.

She looks wrecked. Eyes red, shoulders up around her ears, arms crossed over herself like she’s holding something in place.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

She steps back, which I’ll take. Her room smells faintly like honeysuckle beneath the sharper edge of her stress.

I hand her the glass and she takes it without drinking, just holds it because her hands need a job.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says. “Any of you. I know you’re trying to protect the team.”

“Reese—”

“It’s fine. I get it. The legal side, the paperwork, all of it makes sense.” Her voice comes out flat and rehearsed, like she’s been running this since the boathouse. “I just need a minute to get used to it.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and leave room between us. “Can I tell you something?”

She shrugs at the floor, so I keep going.

“I knew you were mine your first week here.”

Her head comes up.

“You remember that first practice? Gray leaning on you to see where you’d crack.” I shake my head. “You matched him. Every dig, every test, straight back at him without raising your voice. Most people fold under Gray inside a week.”

The corner of her mouth moves. “He was such an ass.”

“He was.” I put my elbows on my knees. “But that’s not when I knew. It was after. You found Zane sitting on the ramp on his own, wound up about his grades, and you sat down next to him. Didn’t fix it. Didn’t give him a speech. Just kept him company until he could stand up again.”

She’s watching me now.

“That’s when. Not your scent, not your designation, none of the biology. You’re hard enough to go at Gray and soft enough to sit with Zane on a bad night. You look at people and actually see what’s there.”

The glass turns between her hands.

“I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t the moment. You were still finding your feet, and the last thing you needed was another Alpha showing up with intentions like you were something to be won. So I left it alone.”

I wait until she looks at me.

“But I’ve been waiting. Not for permission and not for a crisis. For you to look at me the way I look at you.”

“Bo.” Her voice catches on my name.

“The reporter, the photos, the filing. None of that is why I want to claim you. That’s just timing, and it’s rotten timing. I want you because of you. And because when you’re in that stern calling our strokes, the whole world lines up for about six minutes.”