Page 14 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)
I tried to shut it out. If I couldn’t control my biology, at least I could control the game.
At least, that’s what I told myself. But from the first second, it was obvious I wasn’t the same player as before.
My reflexes dragged, the medication slowing me down and my senses a mess from Reid sitting so close.
I missed shots, fumbled reloads, got caught in easy traps.
He could’ve crushed me. But he didn’t. He started slowing down, too, opening up obvious shots, letting me score when no one else would have. Only a pro would’ve noticed. He made it look like a close game, but it was him making me look good on purpose.
On the last round, I landed a clean kill and ended it. He groaned dramatically, like I’d just upset the balance of the universe.
“Still got it,” I said, hoping the camera didn’t pick up on how I was fighting to keep my hands from shaking.
“Beginner’s luck. Stream’s gonna love that.” He was grinning, but there was that glint in his eye again, something I didn’t have a name for.
the way he looks at her tho
pack bond in real time
it’s happening isn’t it
I faced the camera. “So there you have it, chat. Quinn and Pack Wrecked: the most reluctant partnership in gaming history.”
Reid arched a brow. “Reluctant, huh?”
“You have a better word for it?” I shot back, but it sounded weak.
He leaned in, voice dropping to something that buzzed straight down my spine. “Inevitable.”
The word landed like a physical thing between us. Chat went completely feral, but for a second I couldn’t read any of it, too busy trying not to look away from him.
At that moment, a sharp knock broke the spell. Malik stepped in, holding a glass of water and my little orange bottle.
“Sorry, but it’s break time. Doctor’s orders,” Malik said, completely unfazed by the weird energy in the room.
Reid frowned. “It’s been two hours already?”
“An hour forty-five. The doc was very specific.”
I wanted to argue, but I was running on fumes, feverish, head spinning, my nerves sparking and frayed. Maybe the meds were supposed to help, but withdrawal didn’t care about schedules.
“Sorry, chat,” I managed, and pasted on a smile. “Gotta take my meds. But I’ll be back tomorrow, same time, same chaos.”
“Such a tease,” Reid said, but his eyes were on me, scanning for weakness.
“That’s the Quinn promise, never satisfy, always leave them wanting more.”
We did another few minutes of banter, but by the time I finally hit END STREAM, I nearly slumped out of my chair.
“You pushed too hard,” Reid said, voice a different person than the one who’d just been flirting with me for a hundred thousand people.
“I’m fine.” Which I obviously wasn’t, but I had to say it anyway.
Malik handed me the pills. “Your scent’s spiking. Withdrawal?”
I nodded and swallowed them with a shaky gulp.
Reid’s whole energy shifted. “It gets worse when I’m around, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t have to answer. We both knew it. My system was raw and hypersensitive, and his scent was like gasoline on a fire.
“It’s just chemistry,” I said, more for myself than them. “It’ll fade.”
“Right.” There was a forced casualness in his voice, and I hated how I could feel it vibrating between us.
Malik, always the professional, cut back in. “Stream went well. Engagement better than projected. Sponsors are already calling.”
I forced a grin. “Told you it was worth it.”
“Not if you wreck yourself in the process,” Reid said, already heading for the door. “Next time, we cut off at an hour. No arguments.”
He left, scent lingering like a warning.
Malik just shook his head. “He’s worried about you, you know.”
“I don’t need that.” I rubbed at my forehead, trying to settle myself. “I need to not make a fool out of myself on camera.”
“You didn’t,” Malik said. “The only thing half the chat noticed was you and Reid looking at each other like, well...”
I blinked, surprised by the bluntness. “We were not–”
He smirked. “You absolutely were.” Then, more gently, “That’s exactly the angle we need. The enemies-to-lovers arc is irresistible.”
“It’s an act. Part of the content.”
“If you say so.” Malik’s smile didn’t shift at all. He left me to it, like he knew exactly what I’d choose.
And maybe I did at one point, but by the time I was alone, all I could do was replay every minute on loop, the banter with Reid, the way he’d helped cover my weaknesses, the way he’d looked at me when he said “inevitable.” None of that had been part of the script.
And none of that was safe.
Because I couldn’t afford to be the cliché, couldn’t afford to be the Omega who fell for her alpha packmate with all of social media as a witness. Couldn’t afford to be anyone but Kara Quinn, lone wolf, untouchable. Not now, not ever.
But as I buried myself in bed that night, clutching a pillow that was definitely not mine and trying not to notice how it smelled ever so slightly of cedar, I found myself thinking maybe I was lying about more than just my career.
Maybe the feelings weren’t entirely fake, either.
It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. It was just biology, I told myself as I drifted off. A trick of hormones and stress and withdrawal.
It had to be. Because the alternative, that I was actually falling for Reid Maddox, was a slow-motion disaster that would take my whole life out with it.
But as I slipped into sleep, only one word echoed through my head, relentless:
Inevitable .