Page 48 of False Catch

Except for the way Gray's thigh presses against mine in the booth. The way Zane's hand rests on my shoulder. The way every single one of them turns toward me like I'm their center of gravity.

"We should head back," Eli says eventually. "It's getting late and we have that team meeting with Coach first thing in the morning."

"What do you think that's about?" Bo asks.

"Either we're in trouble or he's impressed," Gray says. "With Bennett, could go either way."

We pile back into the cars, and I notice I smell like them now - all their scents layered on my clothes and skin. My suppressants are definitely having to work overtime with all the alpha pheromones I’m being soaked with. I should be panicking and making every attempt to get back to my dorm.

Instead, I feel safe. And I don’t want to leave.

Back at the house, everyone scatters. Cameron steps out onto the deck and pulls out a pack of cigarettes he likes to pretend we don’t know about. Tyler sets up at the dining table with his laptop and approximately three hundred color-coded note cards. The others disappear to their rooms to change or grab snacks for movie night.

I should go back to my dorm. Get fresh suppressants. Put distance between us.

Instead, I find myself in the small study off the main hallway, looking for my Biomechanics textbook so I can study for the coming midterms.

"Biomechanics of Human Movement, third edition?"

I turn to find Beckett holding my textbook, reading the cover with exaggerated interest. "Sounds riveting. Real page-turner."

"It's actually pretty interesting."

"I'm sure." He flips through it. "Oh look, diagrams of joints. My favorite kind of bedtime reading."

"Can I have it back?"

"Depends. What's it worth to you?" He holds it just out of reach, grinning.

"Beckett, we're not five."

"No, if we were five, I'd be pulling your pigtails." He pauses. "Actually, that still sounds kind of fun."

I roll my eyes but can't help smiling. "You're ridiculous."

"I prefer charming." He hops up to sit on the desk, still holding my book hostage. "So, scale of one to ten, how much are you dreading tomorrow with Quinton?"

"Why would I be dreading it?"

"Because he's sketchy as hell and everyone knows it except apparently you."

"He's been perfectly nice."

Beckett laughs. "Oh, Reese. Sweet, naive Reese. Guys like Quinton are always 'perfectly nice.' Right up until they're not."

"Guys like you?"

"Ouch." He presses a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "I'm genuinely nice. Ask anyone."

"Anyone female?"

"Especially anyone female. I have references. Glowing ones."

"I bet you do."

He studies me for a moment, then his expression shifts to something more serious. "You know what the difference is between me and Quinton?"

"What?"