Page 24

Brogan

I’m not sure what I expected when getting back to campus but this mountain of chaos wasn’t it. Between speaking with the dean and finding out everything that’s changing with the team as well as Ethan’s part in it, I’m a little pissed off.

No, make that really pissed off.

The dean was real firm about reporting anything that happened further, that every player and part of the team should be protected. In my mind, Maya’s safety is more important than anyone else’s so I wholeheartedly agree with everything he said. The problem is, I just don’t know what Ethan’s point was when it came to leading Nox all the way into that goddamn building.

The worst part is that neither Holt nor Maya have sent me a message in the last few hours after the dean said they talked. And it’s starting to eat me alive. I try her number again, then Holt’s, but nothing, just voicemails. They’re probably together, talking it through but my mind’s spinning darker scenarios, picturing Nox, that bastard, somehow slipping back onto campus, his hands on her again.

Sitting here, letting myself spiral is only making it worse. I need to move, make sure she’s okay, and then find something to focus on so that I don’t go out of my fucking mind. Deciding to try Dakota’s room, I head down the hall, hoping he’s heard something from her.

At first, there’s no answer and then the door swings open but it’s Roman, not Dakota, his citrus scent doing all sorts of funny shit to me that it shouldn’t be doing. My eyes widen, a blush creeping hot up my neck, because—fuck, it’s been like this all day, ever since that kiss last night, his lips on mine. I’ve never thought about a guy like that, never felt my pulse jump at the sight of Roman’s messy hair, his brown eyes, but now? It’s all just right there, front and center.

Apparently, I’m not alone as Roman’s gaze dips to my lips, then back to my face. My nostrils flare as his scent sharpens before I gather myself and clear my throat, forcing myself to focus. “Do you know where Maya is?”

Roman leans against the doorframe, his expression softening. “Yeah. Holt and Maya are together. Dakota went over there sulking, maybe an hour ago? Holt said to come through with Chinese at seven, so, like, thirty minutes.”

I nod, relief loosening my chest, because she’s okay. “Good,” I say, turning to go, but Roman’s voice stops me.

“Hey, I need to apologize for the kiss.”

I freeze, turning back, my heart thudding, because—fuck, we’re doing this now? “Why?”

Roman rubs a hand over his jaw, his eyes dropping to the ground, then meeting mine again. “Because I didn’t ask. I just took. I wanna blame it on all these pheromones, this Alpha stuff, but that’d be bullshit.” His honesty hits me, the guilt, the want, the same confusion I’m drowning in spreading through his expression

“Okay,” I say, because what else is there? I’m not sure what I feel, but it’s not anger.

He blinks, surprised. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I forgive you, I guess. Roman, I’m not mad at you. I’m confused. I didn’t hate it.” The words slip out, my face heating again, because admitting that is a step in a very different direction.

Roman’s lips twitch, a spark of desire lighting up in his eyes. “Oh.”

“And that’s why I’m having a problem,” I admit. “Is it the pheromones? Is it whatever’s floating in the air? I have no fucking clue.”

Roman grins, a teasing note to his voice. “Welcome to the ragtag band of mates. I think there’s space for one more.” Silence falls between us but it’s not as awkward as I thought it would be. His gaze darts inside the room and then back to me. “I think I found something. Was searching up Nox Carter. I didn’t find much because he’s just all just business man and he doesn’t have socials. What guy under 30 doesn’t have socials? Don’t answer that. You don’t.” There’s a nervous chuckle in there and I suddenly feel like I’ve been transported back to my teens, stepping into my crush’s bedroom for the first time.

He plops onto the bed, a spread of papers shifting across the mattress, his expression a mix of excitement and unease. “I texted my brother, ‘cause he’s got connections and shit. Apparently, Nox Carter made a pretty big deal in the art world a few years back—five or so? Got caught up in a scandal, lots of money down the drain type stuff.”

I blink, my brain tripping over itself, because—what? “First off, I thought he was more of a businessman. Second, how the fuck is that not public knowledge?”

Roman shrugs again. “Art world’s kinda hush-hush unless the police get involved, or so my brother says. I don’t fucking know.” He grabs a stack of papers, his excitement bubbling over, and shoves them toward me. “His name comes up a few times in some trades and stuff. This shit’s worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

I take the papers, scanning them—names, numbers, gallery listings—but it’s gibberish to me, and I shake my head, frustration creeping in. “You’re losing me, Roman.”

He leans closer, pointing at a highlighted line. “There was this big scandal and, uh, they’re all fakes. I guess he got into the business to make some quick cash but the deals were bad and now he’s trying to recoup money for investors. I don’t know the details, but that’s what it sounds like.”

His scent is making it really hard to concentrate and my cock—the traitor that it is—is not helping. “Roman, how the fuck could you find all this bullshit out? Is any of this legal?” My mind’s spinning through a hundred different scenarios that are only possible in the movies but I have nothing else to go on. All of this research must have taken hours and no doubt why Dakota fucked off to go find Holt and Maya after most likely being ignored.

“I just searched up what my brother told me. The galleries list who buys the art as a way to track it. It’s all public domain but you have to know what you’re looking for. I didn’t so I checked a few of the galleries around here. Found his name a few times. Looked up those pieces and found out they were fake!” He throws his hands up, a boyish grin taking over his face and damn the fucker is beautiful.

“If you pushed even an ounce of this effort into your studies, you might actually graduate with honors.”

“Meh, that’s boring. Look, I’m assuming his trust fund’s locked until he gets married or something like that. I didn’t get that far, but now we know why he needs the money and why it’s urgent. I’ve watched enough TV to know some of the investors breathing down his neck are probably threatening him.”

That all makes sense even if all of this seems a little far-fetched. However, knowing that Roman’s brother is deep into the art business, I’m inclined to believe everything Roman pulled up. Unfortunately, this means that keeping Nox off campus is only half the battle. “How the fuck do we protect her from that?”

“We don’t. The police do that. My brother’s pack will help—they’ve been trying to recoup all the fakes anyway, not my brother, but the police. So a little tip-off will send ‘em in the right direction.”

“So, we just gotta make sure Nox stays the fuck off campus till this blows over and somehow convince Maya not to leave without one of us by her side.”

“Won’t be a problem. Next week’s Dakota’s heat. We won’t even be here.” His grin’s infectious, easing the knot in my chest, except for the fact that I kind of forgot about next week.

“Right, that slipped my mind.”

“I get it. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

I snort, wondering why he thinks I’m not going to come, why he thinks I wouldn’t want to. “I want to make sure Maya’s okay. And you all’ll need someone right in the head to make sure you fuckers actually eat.”

“Brogan, we didn’t ask you to come to be a pack Beta or some shit.”

“If I didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t,” I say, meeting his eyes, because I mean it. “Staying on campus isn’t really a win, so even if I’m on the other side of the cabin, at least it’s a vacation. Please tell me someone knows how to cook so we can at least have Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, we’ll do all that shit too,” he muses. But then I catch the way his eyes linger, dipping to my lips again, a spark of want that makes my pulse jump.

I take a step closer because we need to name this, at least a little. “Look, I know what you want, or think you want? I don’t know, and I’m not saying no, but we gotta go real slow, like at a snail’s pace. I didn’t even plan for Maya to come back, and the idea of a pack, bonds, and…”

Roman cuts me off, his hands raised, relief flooding his features. “No one’s talking about all that, Brogan. Everything I know is changing. I’m hot and uncomfortable and have been pissed off most of the time the last two days. I also have a knot that keeps swelling at the most inconvenient times, trying to knot the air or some shit.” He pushes out a strained laugh. “Before you came in, I fucking came in my pants just thinking about knotting Dakota. It’s like a second puberty and it’s bullshit. Do I like you? Yes. But I have no idea where this goes or how far it does. All I know is I really fucking liked your lips.”

I stare at him, a laugh bubbling up, because only Roman would word-vomit like that, raw honesty just coming out in a garble. “I always forget you word-vomit when you’re nervous.”

“That’s the only thing you got from that?”

“For the record, I liked your lips too. Let’s get through Dakota’s heat, and then maybe we can figure out whatever this is. Right now, I think you mentioned we’re on dinner duty, and I really wanna catch that sex glow on Maya’s face.”

Roman’s grin turns wicked. “Fuck, I’m jealous. I can’t wait for when she’s in my arms.”

“Oh, she makes the sweetest sounds.”