Page 4 of In Doubt

He scrunches up his face. “You do. Some of it’s so high pitched only dogs can hear.” He tosses his cup into a bin and turns to face me. “Bye, Giorgie. Take care of yourself and call me, alright?”

“I will,” I promise. “I’ll miss you.”

I’ll miss him, his packmates and his omega. They’re like family to me and it’s one of the many reasons I want that spot on the professor’s research team. I want to stay at Crestmore, stay in Studworth. I don’t want to move away.

Sia skids to a halt right as Ric releases me and he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before strolling away.

“Ready for this?” she asks.

“Hell, yes.” I grin back at her and we drop down to sit cross legged on the floor as we wait for the others from our course to arrive.

Soon my friend Carl joins us and by ten o’clock, there’s a large group of us crowding around the entrance to the bookshop and causing the staff inside to throw us disgruntled looks.

“Is everyone here?” the professor glances at her wrist watch, then runs her gaze over the list of names on her clipboard.

I don’t know why she’s asking. It’s obvious one person isn’t here yet. His presence is so dominating his absence is always noticeable. Plus, he’s the same person who’s late for every class: Jake Grantham. Somehow, though, he gets away with it every time. Just flashes a half-apologetic smile at our usually formidable professor and all is forgiven.

It’s that alpha charm. That dangerous alpha charm.

I bounce on my toes, eager to get going.

The airport’s relatively empty, a few business men and women wheeling their suitcases and a cleaner filling rubbish bags. I tip my head back and watch as rain streams down the cavernous glass roof and another jet thunders overhead.

“Perhaps Jake’s not going to make it,” I whisper.

Sia rolls her eyes at me. “Of course he’s going to make it, Giorgie. Jake wouldn’t miss this trip any more than you would.”

She’s right. Jake and I are competing neck and neck for the spot at the top of the class. Neither one of us is going to let those extra marks slip through our fingers.

“Anyway,” Carl says, scratching at the scruff on his chin and leaning around Sia to survey the airport entrance, “You know the professor wouldn’t leave without her star pupil. She’ll keep the whole plane waiting for him if she has to.”

I groan, knowing he’s probably right.

“Here he is!” Sia declares, and both mine and the professor’s eyes are drawn to the parting glass doors. Jake Grantham strolls right through as if he doesn’t have a care in the world and hasn’t been keeping the rest of us waiting for the last twenty minutes.

The professor sighs in relief and smiles widely.

I frown harder, unable to drag my gaze away. His presence is definitely domineering. Six feet and god knows how many inches tall with more muscles than should be humanly possible, golden hair and seductive blue eyes. It’s not surprising that as well as acing this course, he also has a spot on the varsity rugby team.

He’s the kind of guy who's had everything land straight in his lap. Rich parents. Good looks. The right connections. And now possibly the research spot I want.

I hate him. I really do.

I turn back to Sia. “He made it,” I mutter.

She bumps her shoulder back against mine. “Come on, Giorgie. You don’t need him to do a no-show to beat him. You can win the top spot on your own merits.”

She’s right. I lift up my chin. Top spot means a guaranteed place on the professor’s research team next year, and her team is the hottest right now. They are doing the most interesting work in our field in the UK. It’s why Jake transferred to Crestmore. It’s why I’ve been working my arse off to guarantee that spot for the last four years.

“What the hell is Jake’s pack doing here?” Carl mutters, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turn back around to follow his gaze and find Jake is flanked by three of his rugby team mates. They’re all equally big, equally intimidating and equally alpha. And that treacherous little omega inside me can’t help but be impressed by all that testosterone on display.

His team mates are also good looking. Levi Smith’s long black hair is hooked up in a messy bun at the base of his skull, a web of tattoos crisscrossing over his dark skin. Dylan Evans strides alongside him, fair complexion with a mop of curly black hair and emerald eyes. And on Jake’s other side, Aiden Colt bounces along, streaks of copper and rust catching in his short brown hair and freckles sprinkled across his arms and face.

“They’ve probably just come to say goodbye.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.”