Page 82 of Breeding Clinic

“I like that,” the athlete says, glancing around at the decor above the bar. Vintage framed photos and memorabilia decorate the original wooden bar above the racks of barely used liquor bottles. “I’d rather come to places like this than corporate chains, you know?”

“That line was crazy long,” Kat says, fighting her way through the crowd.

The athlete twists in his seat. “Kit Kat?”

Kat freezes like a deer in the headlights. “What are you doing here?”

My shoulders stiffen as he drags his eyes over her from head to toe and back up again. His gaze lingers over her belly the most.

“You’re pregnant,” he says.

Her hand lands on the top of her stomach. “Yeah. I am. Why are youhere, Josh?”

“It’s almost September first,” he says. “I’m only in town for a few days.”

She shakes her head and blinks, as if clearing her thoughts. “Right. Your mom’s birthday.”

Oh no. Josh. I put the pieces together quickly. Liam does too. He squares up, his muscles bunching. Gabriel appearspained. As if the shock of learning that Kat’s shitty ex is one of his favorite athletes has rocked his world in a way he’ll never recover from.

“You look… good,” Josh says, cradling his stout in his palm. “I didn’t realize you got mated again.”

Kat gives him a questioning glance. “Why would you?”

Josh ignores her tone and frostiness and presses on. “When are you due?”

A few of the patrons watch, interested, while Liam bristles. It’s the final straw. I’m surprised he’s held it together this long. He throws the wooden divider that closes the bar off from the patrons up and goes to Kat’s side, pulling her against his broad chest.

He gives Josh a smile with too much teeth to be completely friendly. “You’ve met my omega?”

“You’re with the bartender?” Josh asks, looking back at Kat for confirmation.

Liam sticks his hand out, using the movement to angle Kat slightly behind him. “Liam O’Donnell. I’m the owner.”

Unperturbed, Josh shakes his hand. Their knuckles blanch white as they squeeze each other as hard as they can to see who gives in first. It drags on until it’s supremely awkward. I roll my eyes at their macho alpha pissing match.

“Joseph Fischer,” Josh says. “I play for the?—”

“Nice to finally put a face to a name,” Liam says, interrupting him. He pumps their handshake.

“Same.”

“Thought you didn’t know she found her new pack?” Liam asks, sniping at him.

“This is the rest of my pack,” Kat says, interrupting them before someone can break a hand. She pinches Liam’s side through his shirt, then hides the gesture with a few quick pats to his abs.

“Matthew,” I say, waving awkwardly.

“And I’m Gabriel,” Gabriel says. His normally faint accent is thick like it gets right after he spends a lot of time in Brazil with his family. “I saw your World Cup Qualifier game.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “That was a nasty kick you took.”

Oh, holy shit.I stare at Gabriel like I’ve never met the man before. It’s such a subtle, petty insult. He’s bringing up Josh’s personal worst game, the one that had him rolling on the ground, crying dramatically. His team won despite his theatrics, but still. It was embarrassing. I don’t get why soccer players sometimes pretend that minor injuries are so terrible.

Josh’s jaw ticks. “Thank you. I’m fine now, and it’s always nice to meet my fans. Do you guys want me to sign anything? I don’t mind.”

My eyes widen at his complete inability to read the room. I choke on my sip of beer and end up having a coughing fit. Gabriel squeezes my thigh under the bar counter. As if I’m choking on purpose.

Kat’s phone rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket. “That’s Jen. I have to go. I promised I’d meet up with her and grab dinner. We haven’t had a girls’ night out in forever.” She goes up on her tiptoes and tugs Liam down so she can kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you after?”

“Of course. Have fun with your friend,” Liam says. “Come over whenever.”

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