Page 2 of Scrum Heat

I willnotbond with a Nigel.

“You’d be managing TikTok, Instagram, match-day content, some livestreams—basically all of the club’s social media channels,” Evie says. “Think you can handle that pressure?”

Absolutely not.

“Without a doubt.”

She taps her pen. “And you’re an omega?”

Ah. There it is.

“Yes,” I nod. “Registered, suppressed, and fully briefed on all scent-related protocols.”

She doesn’t react as she flips to the last page of my file. “I assume you saw that the role comes with the option of accommodation. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“That was sort of,part of, why I applied,” I admit, not wanting to soundtooeager. “I don’t want to assume, or anything, but… I’d be coming here for a fresh start.”

“You’re from the city, right?”

“Well, about an hour southeast,” I nod. “But my lease is coming to an end, and now I’ve graduated, my options are to get a job and find somewhere new to live... or end upmoving back home to my mom and being bonded to Nigel.”

Evie’s mouth twitches. “Nigel?”

“It’s a long story,” I sigh.

“Ok-ay,” she frowns, then clears her throat. “So, why not stay in the city?”

Aha. Now this question, I was expecting.

“It’s easy to get lost in the city. Not literally, but just… swept up in all the things that don’t really matter. I’m ready for something more settled, morehomely.”

“Well, Alderbridge is definitely quiet,” she says. “This is a small town with a slow pace. But that comes with its own challenges. This is the kind of place where people notice if you sneeze funny.”

“Honestly, after four years of hustle, bustle, and overpricedeverything, it sounds perfect.”

“Well then—you’ll like the spare room at the players’ house.”

I blink. “The…players’house?”

“It’s technically a staff house,” she explains. “One of the older converted properties close to the forest, and the training pitch. A few of the guys stay there during the season.”

She says this like it’s normal, like sharing a wall with four rugby-playing alphas won’t turn my hormones into a Shakespearean tragedy.

Still, it's better than Nigel. Geez,anything'sbetter than Nigel.

“You’d be close to the action,” she adds. “Bit noisy on match days.”

“That’s fine,” I tell her.

And it is.Dangerouslyfine. At this point, I am the dictionary definition of someone making reckless decisions for rent-free (and Nigel-free) living.

“Just so you’re aware,” Evie adds, “no one else has applied. At least, no one who didn’t use a meme as a cover letter.”

Which means... the job's mine.Right?It's practically guaranteed, if my only competition is a meme.

“We need someone who can start immediately.”

“I can start… right now,” I tell her.

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