Page 56 of Sweet Heat

“Fuck that. Tell them no. If money’s the problem, I’ll take care of it,” I promise.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Mari sits up, crossing her arms over her stomach, but there’s hope in her eyes.

“You didn’t ask. I offered,” I insist. “I can cover it without thinking twice. You’re my best friend, Mari. You can’t leave.”

“Yeah. And I can take over the rent. So that’s living and tuition. You don’t need anything to change. Tell your parents to take a hike,” Emma adds. Her family is ridiculously wealthy. They won’t even notice Mari’s missing rent payments.

With a happy squeal, Mari throws herself across us to create the world’s most awkward three-way hug. The weight she’s been carrying on her shoulders visibly lifts, and when she sits back in her seat, her body vibrates as she shoots off several texts.

“I’m putting my foot down. Telling them I’m finishing school first,” she explains with a radiant smile. “If Annabelle needs us, she can come back here, and I’ll be all too happy to take care of her.”

Once she’s done, she powers down the phone with a gleeful shout and we turn our attention back toward the game. The Feral Feckers are up 3-1, and it’s their turn to bat. The sensation of being stared at makes me look toward the dugout. Miller is there with a smile and a wink, and my body heats at his attention. Pressing my fingers to my lips, I blow him a kiss, and the cheeseball pretends to catch it and put it in his pocket.

Gah, I love him so much.

Crimson notices the exchange and frowns, but he’s called up to bat. Dragging his feet to the plate, he glares at Miller, eyes flicking back and forth between us in confusion.Shit.But it was bound to happen—neither of us wanted to hide our relationship for long.

The usher returns carrying churros and caramel sauce for us, and I can’t help but laugh at Miller’s wolfish grin as he watches me dig in.

“Ugh, not sure if I can eat these… like ever again,” Emma complains, and Mari spits the churro out into her napkin, laughing so hard that she doubles over.

That’s fine. All mine.

Chapter Thirty

“What the fuck is going on with you and my sister?” Owen demands, grabbing my shoulder in a punishing grip before spinning me and slamming my back against the locker room wall. Everyone’s jazzed up after winning the game versus the top team in the league. It was a thing of beauty—everyone coming together and dominating when we thought it would be a rough ride.

But Owen seems to be the exception. He’s been dropping comments and glaring at me the whole damn game. Probably my fault, though. I did a shit job of keeping things discreet, catching kisses, and making eyes at my beautiful Puff.

The wall is rough on my back, and I grit my teeth, determined not to hurt my best friend. My Alpha wants to hit back and drivehim into the ground, but I can’t do that. He brings his face closer to mine, and I wonder if I should just tell him.

It’s getting impossible to hide our relationship, and all this sneaking around is making me crazy. Pretending I’m just teaching her to drive when there’s so much more between us. I wanted to ask Willie for his permission first, do this right. However, his extended trip threw a monkey wrench into those plans, and courting Posie the right way is my top priority.

Letting my omega know she’s the most important thing in my life.

Owen’s hands flex, digging into my chest, and his eyes darken with anger. His kettle corn scent is burning with rage, forcing my inner beast to respond in kind.

“Dude, calm down,” Crimson yells, rushing over with Damien hot on his heels. They’re too late, though. I shove off the wall, lunging forward to push Owen off me. My best friend is big, but I’m stronger and my Alpha has more to lose, already prepared to defend my omega.

“Back off, Owen. My relationship with Posie doesn’t concern you,” I snap, trying to push around him. He steps with me, blocking my exit and shoving me back with anger marring his face.

Guess we’re gonna have this out.

The instinct to beat him to a bloody pulp roars through me.Breathe in. Breathe out.Keep your head.Aggression rolls off him, stoking my own. Posie’s waiting outside, so every second he holds me up, she’s out there alone.

“Of course, it concerns me. She’s a kid. And way too innocent for you,” he blusters, spit flying from his mouth and landing onmy cheek. My fists clench, pressing against my legs to stop from decking him right in his stupid face. Vibrating with the need to smash something, I try one last time to get around him.

“Fucking move, Owen. I don’t want to hit you, but I will.” His chest bulges out, bumping me.

“Hit me. I dare you.” My former best friend squares up, ready and waiting, but a loud whistle cuts through the air. I don’t take my eyes off the big Alpha, even when a presence looms behind me. The light banana scent lets me know it’s Damien, along with the nasty cologne that Coach usually wears.

“Cut it out, you two. We just had a great game,” Coach yells, storming between us. “Should be celebrating, not fighting, fucknuts.”

Rather than engage, I use the opportunity to fling my bag over my shoulder and dart for the door. With a powerful push, the heavy metal swings open, allowing the cool hallway air to slap against my skin. The security has done a decent job keeping the area clear of reporters, just a few families of other players milling around.

I sense my omega before I see her, heading to the right as quickly as my feet can carry me. Within a few steps, she comes into view, my dark-blue jersey hugging her delectable curves. She looks way better in it than I ever have, but I’d rather see it on my floor.

Soon.

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