Page 106 of In Deep

“Yep,” Ollie says, “I guess we’re going to have to get used to them if we’re going to the Olympics.” He laughs and they cheer all over again.

I giggle, flopping onto one of the beds with my phone in my hand. I glance at the screen. A message from my dad runs across the centre.

The boys continue to roar and cheer around me, smacking each other on the shoulders, wrestling one another. Silently, I click on the message, opening it up. My heart thumps in my chest, my hand trembles.

At first, the words won’t focus, but then I force them to, force them to line up neatly, so I can run my eye along them and take in the meaning.

They appear to be good lads, Rosie. You all seem very happy together.

I stare at the words, a choke bubbling in my throat, wetness sliding down my face.

“What is it?” Duncan asks, and I glance up to find my alphas all staring at me with concern.

“My dad,” I say, my gaze sinking back to my phone.

“You need to ignore their–” Seb begins, his brow furrowed.

I shake my head. “No. I think …” I look up at them and smile. “I think it’s going to be OK.”

Chapter 35

Two weeks later

I sit sandwiched between my alphas at a table bigger than my old dormitory room. Above us, a giant crystal chandelier glistens, and throughout the ballroom, voices murmur and glasses tinkle. Across the crisp white tablecloth are the discarded dishes we’ve made our way through, half-emptied bottles of champagne and lipstick stained glasses.

The boys had all moaned at Bob about the need to come to this dinner. It’s held for all the teams that competed in the championship. But I’d wanted to come. I admit I enjoy the opportunity of dressing up for my boys, of soaking up their hungry stares. Tonight, I wear a black cocktail dress, strapless and made from soft velvet, and I pinned my hair up, exposing the back of my neck, which I know drives them mad.

Ollie’s hand rests on my thigh, skimming circles on the soft skin, drawing ever closer to the gusset of my underwear, and Seb’s arm rests around the back of my chair, his fingers tracing over my hot gland.

Clearly, the pair of them are winding me up, stoking the fire of my desire, teasing me with these lazy touches. Touches they pretend to pay no attention to, but have shivers racing up and down my skin.

My words out there in the water two weeks ago haven’t been forgotten. Over the days that have passed since, there’s been an awareness between all of us – in our scents, when our eyes meet – it’s coming. The moment is coming.

My pulse flutters and my gland tingles. I’m primed with anticipation. I have been for the last fourteen days.

When will it be? When will it happen?

I realise they will not refuse me. I know their restraint has been stretched to its limit, and now it’s going to snap, flinging us all together in an explosion of want. There’s no holding back this tide.

I lift my glass to my mouth, my hand trembling, and pour cool water onto my lip.

“OK?” Seb asks, his breath hot on my ear, his grip suddenly tight. His voice is tight too. I can hear the strain, the beginning of the break.

“Yes,” I say, hardly hearing the breathy word over the buzzing in my head. I shudder hard when he rests his lips on my shoulder.

His head remains bowed. Almost as if he’s fighting himself.

I count the beats of my heart.

One.

Two.

Three.

And then he’s slamming back his chair, dragging me up onto my feet.

His hand is tight on my wrist as he pulls me along behind him, the others soon catching us, surrounding me in a circle.