He nods, eyes forward.
"Didn't expect to see you at breakfast," I comment. "Not usually your scene."
He shrugs, a minimal movement of his un-inked shoulder. The one without the scars.
"Team dinner tonight too. You coming?"
Another nod.
I study him from the corner of my eye. "Any particular reason for this sudden team spirit?"
His gaze shifts briefly to where Reese walks ahead with Tyler, the two deep in conversation about something. So brief most wouldn't catch it.
But I'm not most people.
"Ah," I say, understanding blooming. "That's how it is."
Cameron gives me a warning look that would intimidate someone who hadn't known him for three years.
I hold up my hands. "None of my business."
"No, it's not," he says, and peels off toward the motorcycle parking area.
I watch him go, pieces clicking into place. Cam's interest in Reese. Her nervous glances at him during breakfast. Something happened between them.
I find my truck and climb in, mind working through the implications. Gray's territorial behavior. Eli and Jackson's tension. Tyler's unusual attention to Reese. Cam's unexpected presence at team gatherings. And Reese at the center, seemingly unaware of the effect she's having on a boatful of Alphas.
Or maybe not unaware. Maybe just focused on something else entirely.
I remember her reaction to the mention of Riverside being five days away. The alarm in her voice before she masked it. The frequent glances at her watch. The way she scanned the area outside her dorm.
Reese Callahan is carrying something heavy. Something beyond the normal pressure of being the first female coxswain on an elite men's crew.
As I drive to my anthropology class, I make a decision. Whatever's going on, I'll keep watching. Keep noticing. And if necessary, step in before things fall apart.
Because that's my real job on this team. Not just rowing, not just being the "mother hen." My job is making sure everyone gets across the finish line in one piece.
Even if some of them seem determined to capsize along the way.
chapter FOURTEEN
Gray
Reese is late.
I check my watch again: 7:18 PM. Everyone else arrived for team dinner on time—even Tyler, who rescheduled his lab to make the original 7:00 call. But our coxswain is nowhere to be seen.
"She'll be here," Bo says, reading my irritation as he stirs a pot of jambalaya that smells good enough to momentarily distract me. "Probably got caught up in study group or something."
"She should have texted," I mutter.
"Like you did all those times you were late for team events?" Eli comments without looking up from his laptop. "Oh wait, you were never late because you're physically incapable of being anything less than perfectly punctual."
"Team captain," I remind him. "Different standards."
"Different something," Zane mutters from the couch, where he's scrolling through his phone.
I ignore the comment, moving to the window for the third time in ten minutes. The team house sits on the edge of campus, closer to the lake than the main buildings. From here, I can see the path Reese would take from her dorm to reach us. Still empty.
