Page 4 of Cleat Heat

“Takes one to know one.” I snort out a laugh. We’ve all been caught watching her, and the season’s barely begun.

“Come on,” Dash grunts, his voice husky. “If we want her to notice us, let’s do something about it.”

The tall, dark-haired Alpha wiggles his eyebrows playfully at Ty and me, and my hands get sweaty. That look never ever means anything good—jackass is going to do something to piss off our little omega.

“Yes, let’s do it!” Ty exclaims, bouncing around on the balls of his feet. He has no idea what Dash is talking about, yet he’s all in. Fucking loveable idiot. Scoffing, I roll my eyes but nod. I’d do anything to have that little blond flier’s eyes on me, her body under me.

Shit. We still haven’t even had a proper conversation, but I can’t stop thinking about her, imagining her.

Maybe she’s mine? Ours?

My mind flits back to the day I first saw her, lost in a crowded sea outside the stadium. I was only there to pick up some gear, but when people started bumping my little flier around, I had to step in.

But, of freaking course, she has an Alpha. A douchey one at that. No omega that stunning could remain single for long. My jaw clenches when I think about his shitty hands on her, and the need to rip them off his body roars to life.

She doesn’t have an Alpha if she doesn’t have a bite. Right?

“What’s the plan?” I ask, curious.

“Who cares?” Ty bumbles on, bumping his shoulder into me, unable to contain his excitement. For as big as he is, he acts like a little kid most of the time. A giant bundle of energy that’s ready to explode at the slightest provocation. It’s what makes him such a force on the field, unpredictable to other teams, and fast as fuck.

Completely clad in practice clothes, I follow Dash and Ty out of the tunnel, unsure of this ruse. Yeah, I want the little omega to notice me, but usually, pissing them off isn’t the best way to go about courting one. Omegas are rare, and I want our pack to shoot our shot right. Not make her angry enough to toss us into the enemy dungeon and keep her perfectly muscled thighs closed forever.

My cleats sink into the plush green turf—forty-five minutes before practice starts. The light breeze makes me smile, and the temperature is perfect as the sun hides behind a puffy white cloud. It’s a beautiful day, but unease flutters in my gut. Clenching my hands into fists again, I pull in a deep breath of the fresh air around me and try to dispel my nervous energy. The rest of the team was so confused by Dash pushing them to get their butts ready and out onto the field. We’re going to get ribbed about this forever if they catch on. They jostle each other, joking and slamming their helmets around beside me.

Their loud voices carry across the field, and my little flier’s head snaps in our direction. Unable to see her face at this distance, I secretly cross my fingers and hope she’s annoyed and not completely enraged. Somehow, though, I don’t get the sense of either reaction from her.

The beta, who was lifting her earlier, slings an arm around her shoulder as she gestures toward us. He says something that causes her to nod and begin tugging at the long ponytail on top of her head. I’m completely captivated as she pulls out her hair tie, shakes out the long platinum tresses, and flips her head toward the ground.

What is she doing? Is she feeling sick?

Rushing forward toward the edge of the crowd, my instincts urge me to get closer in case she needs something. Relief courses through me as she gathers her hair and twists it before standing back up and smoothing it into a fresh ponytail that shines as the sun comes back out.

The beta reaches for her hand, and she squeezes it before swatting him away playfully. Watching her closely, I notice her square her shoulders and then march determinedly toward us. She’s nervous but good at hiding it, and all I want to do is soothe away her anxiety.

We’d never hurt you. Meet us, and we’ll show you.

“She’s coming over,” Ty hisses in my ear, and I jump, not sure when he got so close. The hair on my arms stands as my entire body tenses, fighting the urge to sprint across the green and snatch her up.

These instincts are wild. I’ve never felt anything like it before…and I haven’t even scented her yet.

Chapter Three

Dash

The tiny Omega saunters over to us, wearing the smallest black shorts I’ve ever seen in my life. They’re tight and hug her bitable ass perfectly. So perfectly—not that I can see it right now as she marches this way with her jaw clenched and her eyes flashing, ready to bust some balls.

Or ballers—heh.

Her high ponytail gives me all kinds of dirty ideas, and my teeth ache to sink into the skin at the base of her neck, marking her for all the world to see. Porcelain skin left bare, just for me, by her slim-fitting green tank top. Nothing about it is indecent, but the outfit looks like it’s painted on, drawing my attention directly to the swells of her cleavage.

Biting back a groan, my cock twitches as I stare at the perfect little handfuls. I long to cup them in my palms, tease her nipples until she cries out, and run my tongue between them to lap up her slick—maybe my bite could go right there at the top of one of her lush tits.

What the fuck?

Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of that idea. I want to sink my knot into her, not my teeth. Nope. Our pack is still new, and we certainly don’t need an omega for keeps—no claiming going on over here.

“She’s coming over,” Ty moans, shifting his body to hide his erection behind me.

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