Page 1 of False Catch

CHAPTER ONE

Reese

The suppressants go down bitter. Wrong.

I dry-swallow the pill and glance at Bo’s reflection in the mirror. He’s tugging on his team jacket, his jaw tight. Three days on chemical control, and my body finally feels like mine again. No more fire under my skin. No clawing ache in my chest. No instinct thrumming every time one of them breathes too close.

Just a hollow echo where something used to live.

“You don’t have to come to practice,” Bo says, not looking at me. “We could tell Coach you’re still feeling off.”

“I’m fine.”

The lies come out smoother every time. I’ve had practice, three days’ worth, trapped in a house with eight Alphas who can scent every lie I tell.

Bo’s gaze meets mine in the mirror. “Reese.”

Just my name. But it lands like a stone dropped in deep water. The way he held me. The way I begged him to take me over and over again. The way we fit afterward with skin, heat, and trust like it was always meant to be.

The things I told him when I was too far gone to hold anything back.

I turn to face him. He watches me as if I might bolt. Careful. Controlled. Like I’m something half-wild.

Maybe I am.

“The suppressants are working,” I say. “Everything’s back to normal.”

His mouth tilts in something that’s not quite a smile. “Normal.”

“Yes.”

“Nothing about this is normal, sunshine.”

The endearment hits differently now. During my heat, he whispered it against my throat while I came in his arms. Now it sounds like a promise and a warning rolled into one. Both do something to me that I really shouldn’t be allowing right now.

Ignoring my own mental warnings, I step in close, tugging the edge of his collar straight. He tries to keep his breath smooth, but it stutters when my fingers brush his neck. Even now, three days at the house and almost a week since we had sex, he still shivers when I touch him. Knowing I have that effect on him shouldn’t be this thrilling.

“We have to make it normal,” I murmur. “The team can’t keep acting like a pack of guard dogs every time someone looks at me sideways.”

“Can’t help it.” His voice drops an octave. “You smell different now.”

“I smell like pharmaceuticals and lake water.”

“No.” He leans in just enough for me to catch his alpha scent. Pine and crisp air and freedom. “You smell like mine.”

The word hangs between us, dangerous and true. During my heat, when the suppressants failed and my body betrayed every secret I’d kept, the line between teammate and something more dissolved. Bo was the one who stayed close when I needed an anchor. The one who held me steady through the worst of it.

I shift even closer. “Bo.”

His hands find my waist, gentle but possessive. “Yeah?”

“We need to be careful.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t let go.

“You know the others will notice.”

“They already have,” he says. “Jackson nearly put Beckett through a wall for mentioning you might move back to campus housing.”