Page 28 of Scrum Heat

“I can do it again. Want one with more light? Want one with less bounce?”

I had no idea what he meant bybounce, but I filmed it again anyway.

For content.Obviously.

By the time we wrap up, I’m pretty confident that I have enough footage to satisfy Evie, the club’s sponsors, and atleasteighty percent of omega TikTok. On top of that, Ialsohaven’t combusted, fainted, or accidentally mounted a training cone; which counts as a huge win.

I survived Rory’s scowls, Finn’s sunshine energy, Theo’s hose kinks, and Jax doing morally confusing things to a tire.

And I was fine.

Totally. Perfectly. Fine.

Until I wasn’t.

Because now we’re done, the adrenaline’s gone, and all that’s left is four sweaty alphas stretching in the sun while my hormones try to boot up a heat that isn’t even happening.

My pulse skips. My spine tingles. The scent hits me like a tackle to the chest and suddenly everything’s just… too much.

“Okay!” I chirp, way too loud for even my own ears. “Great job, team. You were deeply chaotic and weirdly photogenic.”

Theo winks as he downs the last of his water. “That’sgoing in my bio.”

“I need to go and edit,” I say quickly, backing toward the clubhouse. “You know how it is: deadlines. Emails. Productivity. Corporate synergy.”

“You’re flushed,” Rory calls, without looking up.

“It’s the sun,” I lie.

“It’s cloudy.”

“Yeah, well, turns out I’m allergic to… daytime hours and testosterone.” I cringe at myself. “Catch you all back at the house!”

And then I flee.

At speed.

Thankfully, the house isn’t too far of a walk, and I make it back in no time at all. None of the alphas have attempted to follow me, which is a relief: I’mfinallygoing to have some much-needed alone time to calm my composure and get back in control.

I make it back to my room and lean against the closed door like I’ve just escaped a fire. My skin’s buzzing, my knees aretrembling, and I don’t even want to know if it’s from adrenaline or pheromones or just residual compression-short trauma.

Theo's hoodie is still on the bed, where I tossed it earlier in a noble, temporary show of restraint.

I don’t put it on, because I’m strong. I’m grounded.

I’m a modern omega woman with a bachelor’s degree and a very average serotonin level.

I’m…

…Okay,screw it.

I give into all of my instincts and dive into the alpha-made nest sitting in the corner of the room, hoodie in hand and my camera roll now open.

I settle myself down and hitplay, watching the first video as Theo lunges—slowly—with those compression shorts clinging to every inch of muscle that he calls thighs. He’s smirking, winking, andabsolutelyknows what he’s doing, the smug bastard.

Finn jogs into frame, flushed and glowing, his shaggy blond hair damp with sweat, his smile soearnest I almost whimper.

In the background, Rory mutters something about professionalism. I watch his strong jaw clench in annoyance as his shirt pulls across his broad chest when he moves, and—oh,yep, my ovaries just applauded.

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