As we pull back to the dock, even Gray looks satisfied. Sweat glistens on tanned skin as the team unloads, high on endorphins and the simple pleasure of movement done well.
"Good call on the drills," Gray says, standing closer to me than strictly necessary. Morning sun catches the droplets of water in his dark hair. "It worked."
"I know my job, Lockwood."
"You do." His admission seems pulled from him reluctantly. "The question is why you're doing it here, with us."
Before I can formulate a response, Eli approaches. "We're heading to breakfast at The Griddle before class. You coming, Captain?"
Gray's gaze stays on me. "Callahan's joining us."
It's not a question. It's also not something I planned for. Controlled practice environments are one thing. A crowded diner with eight Alphas is another risk entirely.
"I have an early class," I say, the lie coming easily.
"No, you don't." Gray's voice is calm, certain. "I checked your schedule when you transferred in. Your first class is at eleven."
My mouth goes dry. "You checked my schedule?"
"I check everything about my team." His eyes narrow slightly. "Breakfast, Callahan. Team bonding. Or are you only interested in commanding us on the water?"
It's a challenge, just like yesterday. And just like yesterday, I can't back down.
"Fine. But I need to shower first."
"We all do," Beckett says, sniffing his armpit dramatically. "I smell like a barnyard animal."
"No change there, then," Zane quips, ducking as Beckett swings at him.
The easy camaraderie between them makes something in my chest ache. I haven't had that since... well, since before Westlake discovered what I am.
"Meet at The Griddle in thirty," Gray says, his tone making it an order.
The team disperses toward the locker rooms. I gather my things, hyperaware of Gray's lingering presence.
"Problem?" I ask without looking up.
"Just wondering what you're so afraid of," he says quietly.
I freeze, then force my hands to continue moving. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Everyone's afraid of something, Callahan." I hear him step closer. "Even Alphas."
I turn to face him, surprised by the admission. His expression is serious, thoughtful.
"What are you afraid of then, Lockwood?"
The question hangs between us, heavier than it should be. For a moment, I think he might actually answer. Then his walls slam back into place.
"Mediocrity," he says flatly. "Thirty minutes, Callahan. Don't be late."
He walks away, leaving me with more questions than answers. And a growing suspicion that Gray Lockwood is a lot more complicated than the cold, calculated Alpha he pretends to be.
I watch him join the others, his tall frame moving with that unconscious grace that marks elite athletes. Whatever game we're playing, the stakes just got higher. Breakfast with eight Alphas. Classes with them. The lines between water and land blurring more each day.
This wasn't part of my plan. Keep my head down. Row. Graduate. That was the strategy.
But strategies change when the current shifts. And something is definitely shifting in the waters of Sable Ridge.
