"We?" I raise an eyebrow. "That's interesting phrasing, Captain."
"The team," Gray clarifies, but there's something in his tone that suggests the "we" is more specific than that.
Reese sets down her coffee cup with deliberate care. "My parents are coming this weekend," she announces, like she's ripping off a bandage. "They think I'm still at Westlake. They don't know about the transfer."
A moment of stunned silence greets this revelation.
"Well, shit," Zane says finally. "That's going to be awkward."
"Understatement of the year," I mutter. "How exactly does one explain switching teams mid-season to parents who don't know you switched schools?"
"Carefully," Reese replies dryly. "Very carefully."
Bo leans forward, his protective instincts clearly engaged. "Do you want us to—"
"No," she cuts him off. "This is my mess to handle. I just wanted everyone to know in case things get... complicated this weekend."
"Complicated how?" Eli asks, finally looking up from his phone.
"My family has expectations," she says carefully. "About my choices. My relationships. My... everything. They're not going to understand why I left Westlake or why I'm here."
The weight of what she's not saying hangs heavy in the air. Rich family, traditional values, an Omega daughter who's stepped outside expected boundaries. I can fill in the blanks.
"Well," I say, injecting deliberate lightness into my voice, "if you need someone to charm your parents, I'm available. I do excellent 'respectable young man from good family' when required."
This earns me a genuine laugh, the first real smile I've seen from her this morning. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass."
"Your loss. I'm very charming."
"Modest, too," Cameron observes from his end of the table, speaking for the first time all morning.
"Modesty is overrated," I reply cheerfully. "Confidence, however, is always attractive."
"Not always," Reese says, but there's warmth in her voice now.
Gray checks his watch, ever the punctual captain. "We need to be on the water in fifteen minutes. Everyone finish up and grab your gear."
As the team disperses to collect equipment, I hang back, watching Reese rinse her barely-touched coffee mug. There's something brittle about her composure this morning, like she's holding herself together through sheer willpower.
"You know," I say casually, "if you want to talk about family expectations and disappointing parents, I'm something of an expert."
She glances at me, surprised. "Really?"
"Really. My father wanted me to follow him into investment banking. Had my whole life planned out: business school, entry-level position at his firm, eventual partnership. The works."
"What happened?"
I shrug. "I chose English literature and competitive rowing instead. He still hasn't forgiven me for 'wasting my potential on frivolous pursuits.'"
She studies my face, looking for the joke. When she doesn't find one, her expression softens. "I'm sorry. That must have been difficult."
"It was," I admit. "Still is, sometimes. But you know what I learned? You can't live your life trying to meet other people's expectations, even when those people are your parents. Especially when those people are your parents."
"Easier said than done."
"Most worthwhile things are." I step closer, keeping my voice low. "But for what it's worth, I think you made the right choice. Coming here. Joining this team. You belong with us, Callahan."
Something flickers in her eyes—gratitude, maybe, or relief. "Thank you, Beckett. That... means more than you know."
