Page 86 of Citius

I can’t help you keep the fuzzballs hydrated, but figured I could knock this item off your to-do list. You can reject my goodwill but not the clothes. Exchange items if you need to. Returns limited to narwhal loungewear. Reimbursement welcome.

At the bottom corner, instead of a signature, he’d written his username for a money transfer app.

How typical. Of course, he’d anticipated my instinct to reject such a generous gesture and preemptively blocked my avenues of escape. Returning everything would be the pinnacle of stupidity. Ninety percent of the pieces were exactly what I’d have chosen—if I’d ever rememberedto shop for winter gear in the first place.

And tomorrow’s home game? The forecast promised wind and rain. I didn’t have anything suitable to wear, and Cal knew it.

Kelsey pulled out the narwhal onesie, letting it unfurl to its full repulsive length. She shot me a mischievous smile, glancing sideways at the note.

“Remind me again… Why aren’t you making out with this guy on the regular?”

“Don’t start.”

“Just calling it like I see it. He knows what type of clothes you like and what size you wear. You’re compatible when it comes to work stuff.” Kelsey folded the onesie and began gathering the other clothes. “And he’s not deterred by your prickly hedgehog routine. Seems perfect to me. Worth the risk of an actual date—or at least a few more kisses.”

“Kels—”

“It all smells like you did after that not-entirely-business dinner.Allof it. That means he bought everything in person, Morgan. And it wasn’t a rush job.”

Fresh out of protests and utterly drained, I rolled onto my side, pulling the heating pad tighter around my neck. Ready to fade away, buoyed by the muscle relaxant coursing through my system. The vise of my headache was oddly comforting, a warped cocoon against emotional vulnerability.

Where thoughtful men couldn’t reach me.

Twenty-Five

Morgan

There were certain frustrations I was prepared to accept—crowd noise, wary glances from the coaching staff, and oblivious players bumping into me.

Even Cal’s smug satisfaction at seeing me in the anorak coat, blue knitted beanie, and matching scarf didn’t faze me. Honestly, I’d be gloating, too, if someone had transferred an obscene amount of money to my account this morning. Paying almost two hundred dollars for a narwhal-embellished coat was a blatant rip-off.

But I drew the line at Owen Redmond loitering on the sidelines, dressed like an athletic grim reaper—black hood pulled up, shielding his sharp features from the drizzle—while interrogating Cal’s staff about the real-time PheroPass data feed.

Such a hands-on approach seemed out of character for Owen. Didn’t he prefer to deliver his censure from a distance?

I ducked around a clump of players, trying to avoid attracting his attention, but Ifailed. Those unyielding gray eyes locked onto me with paralyzing intensity—and like clockwork, they found me repeatedly, every five minutes throughout the first half.

Couldn’t Owen just send whatever message those stares were trying to convey via email?

“It’s so cold,” Alijah said, trailing after me into the athlete’s tunnel at halftime. He rubbed his arms, the green bobble on his knit hat shaking in rhythm with his shivering torso. “Was it supposed to be this cold?”

I turned, about to offer him my scarf or the gloves tucked in mypocket, when I noticed Cal two steps behind me—with Owen a half-step behind him.

Which was the greater offense? Handing over one of Cal’s “gifts” right in front of him or indirectly implying the most dominant alpha in the stadium was letting his pack’s beta freeze to death?

“There’s coffee in the medical office,” I offered instead, dodging the decision entirely.

And that’s how I found myself surrounded by a coffee klatch of men—Reyhan and Dr. McEwen included—sipping tea between topping up my pain meds and cleaning my glasses, listening to them discuss how the Narwhals could turn the game around.

Everyone except for Owen, who was too busy sneering at his drink to comment.

“Don’t mind him,” Alijah whispered, leaning close enough to brush elbows. “His system only runs on the cheapest of coffee. It’s a feature, not a bug.”

The second half unfolded much the same way. A lazily smiling Cal appeared beside me when I least expected it. Owen’s gaze sent a shiver down my spine every time it landed on me. Alijah popped by to chat about the housewarming party, now sporting a scarf and gloves borrowed from Reyhan.

And despite the wind and drizzle, I was perfectly comfortable—thanks to Cal, the considerate spendthrift, and his impeccable taste.

Between Amir’s miraculous interception and Landon’s two field goals from dicey distances, the Narwhals managed to eke out a win.

---