Page 52 of In Doubt

“Always a good idea to retain an air of mystery in my experience.”

“So you’re not one of those sports stars who shares everything about your life on social media.”

I frown. “No, I’m pretty private.” I swallow. “We had some issues with a journalist poking about in our business. They always love a story about a pack especially if they can land dubious shit on us.”

“So you boys never get up to dubious shit?” This time she raises an eyebrow at me.

I lift up my hands. “Like I said, air of mystery.”

“Maybe I should try a bit of that. Sia says I’m too open. Lay everything out on the table.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I say. “Is it?”

She holds my gaze, the water around her sparkling and reflecting moving patterns across her skin.

“Maybe,” she says and I realise I want to get to know this omega a whole lot more.

I’m just not sure how Jake is going to feel about that.

I bob towards her. If she were any other omega, I’d reach out and take her hands in mine, tug her through the water towards me. But there’s something skittish about this one, something I can’t quite place my finger on. I’m always half convinced that there is nothing she wants more but to reach out and touch one of us. Fuck, she clearly wants to touch Jake. Yet something is holding her back.

“See,” I say, “You’re already getting the hang of it.”

She laughs and I can feel the eyes of her friends, laid out across inflatables watching us.

I move around so my back is to them.

“The first step to swimming is to learn how to float,” I tell her.

“Erm I’m not sure I want swimming lessons right this minute.”

I crook my finger at her. “It’s easy. Trust me.”

She jolts a little. A tiny movement, so small I could have missed it if I weren’t observing her so closely. It only confirms that theory I’m forming about this omega. Gently, gently with this one.

“I’ll show you,” I lean right back in the pool, letting the cool water coalesce around my ears and staring straight up into the infinitely blue sky. I bring my feet up, ignoring that twinge in my knee, and lie floating on the surface.

“See,” I say.

“You make it look easy…”

“I’ll help you.” I swing my feet back down to the surface and beckon her closer.

“How?” she asks me, chewing her lip.

“Lie back like I did.”

“I’ll sink!”

“And if you do, I’ll catch you.”

She peers down through the depths and I can’t help doing the same, the outline of her body, of her curves, shimmering under the rippling surface. Then she glances over to me.

“I’m not sure.”

“Come on,” I say. “I can tell you want to.” I bet it kills a woman like Giorgie Martinelli that she can’t do something so many of us can. She likes to prove herself. It’s probably what all this animosity with Jake is all about. She needs to prove to the world she’s as good as him.

“OK,” she says. She smoothes down her hair and then with a steadying breath, tips backward. As her feet leave the bottom, she yelps, her hands thrashing through the water.