Page 17 of Citius

Terrible ideas were my specialty—a fact Alijah seemed to have temporarily forgotten.

Oh well. There was plenty of time to remind him later. In the shower. Or maybe on top of that ridiculous excuse of a kitchen island.

Seven

Morgan

“Careful.” A guy as big as Cal Carling had no business appearing out of nowhere. He stepped between me and a pair of oblivious football players on a collision course with my right side.

I hadn’t even noticed the players coming, even though they looked like a pair of forest green freight trains in their pads and uniforms. My focus had been midfield, scanning for signs of injury after the latest drive. The players apologized and continued to grab a drink.

“You okay?” Cal asked, standing a bit too close. The snarling face of Captain Tusker, the university’s pirate narwhal mascot, glared at me from Cal’s right pec. As if I needed the reminder to avert my eyes.

“Yes, thanks.” I adjusted my sunglasses and watched the defensive line’s ankles as they jogged back toward the sidelines, scanning for any sign of injury. “Sometimes I forget that I’m below their line of sight.”

Cal bent his head at a deep angle to make eye contact with me, blocking out the sun. The reprieve from the afternoon glare only made the fondness in his hazel eyes more noticeable.

“Frequent occupational hazard?”

“Keep poking fun at my height and see how you wind up.”

Cal’s laugh was overwhelmed by the crowd’s roar as our offensive line took to the field. I’d doubled up on pain meds before the start of the game, so the noise didn’t bother me too much.

Tyler jogged over, sweaty red hair plastered to his head, and held out his injured left hand. Someone—probably Tyler himself—had wrappedhis fingers with enough layers of tape and foam bandaging to survive international shipping. An entire section had separated from the rest of the layers, exposing his sprained finger.

“I know the game’s almost over, but could you fix it? Please, doc, just in case.”

“Come on.” The medical supply cabinet was further down the sidelines. I turned and started threading through the crowd of coaches and players. Tyler followed at my heels. Cal ambled along a few steps behind him like an extra-large guard dog.

It was a quick fix. I cut away most of the loose bandages and secured everything with a fresh layer of tape. Tyler yanked on a grass-stained football glove, shoving the bandages through an uneven hole where the index and middle fingers should have been.

“Thanks, doc.” Tyler hurried away, eager to watch the team’s progress down the field.

The score was fourteen to fourteen, and the Narwhals had less than two minutes to break the tie.

Cal rested his arm on top of the cabinet. “Our setup wasn’t this nice when I was playing. None of the doctors were like you, either. I’m rather jealous.”

Bodies flowed around us, moving along with the line of scrimmage. A few staff members, including Coach Garvey, came close to bumping into me again, prompting Cal to guard my back, one large hand hovering over my shoulder. I was running out of patience with his protective alpha act.

“Thanks again, Dr. Carling. I’m fine.” I ducked around one of the athletic trainers to put the tape and scissors away.

Cal didn’t take the hint. He followed me.

“Permission to make a comment stemming from professional experience, Dr. Van Daal?” Two could play the title game.

“Sounds like you’re going to tell me, anyway.”

Cal leaned against the cabinet. The solid wall of his body blocked my view of the playing field, leaving me no choice but to pay attention to him—but I knew he would never prevent me from leaving if I wanted to.

“When emotions are running high, and instincts are in control, players can’t see anything they can’t scent. That includes erstwhile physicians.”

I did my best not to glare at him. “Your point?”

“It would be wise to lower your dosage on game days.”

There was a sharpness in his expression that I had never seen before, an intense focus that made me feel exposed. I should have seen thiscoming. Cal knew all about heat suppressants and their scent-blocking properties. Perhaps too much.

Omegas shouldn’t take large doses of suppressants for prolonged periods of time. Especially not unmated omegas over the age of thirty. Like me.

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