Page 35 of Scrum Heat

He blinks. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Finn,” I deadpan, “you made a woman tear up at the bakery the other day by complimenting her croissants. You’reaggressivelypretty.”

He ducks his head, cheeks flushing pink. “You think that’s aggressive?”

“I’ve seen your thighs. Yes.”

He laughs again, soft and surprised, like he wasn’t expecting me to go there.

There’s a beat of quiet, then we eat in comfortable silence until someone walks in wearing an Alderbridge RFC cap and grins when they spot him.

“You’re really settling in,” Finn says gently. “People like you.”

“They don’t even know me,” I say.

“They’re watching,” he says. “They see the way we talk to you. The way you fit.”

I pause. Stir my coffee.

“It’s weird,” I admit. “I’ve been on my own and in the city for so long, I didn’t think anything about being invisible. So I’m not used to… anyone watching. Or caring if I ate breakfast.”

He gives me a small, crooked smile. “You’ll get used to it.”

We finish up, and the check arrives as I rub my swollen stomach. Hazel has writtenOMEGA FRIEND DISCOUNTacross the top in blue pen, and I can’t help but snort at it.

“Well. That’s official.”

Finn settles the bill before I can even fake-reach for my purse.

As we step out into the cool morning air, he looks over at me, still smiling. “Next time we’re getting the cinnamon roll platter.”

“Next time?” I ask.

“You’re in Alderbridge,” he shrugs. “Breakfast is sacred.”

*

By Friday night, the whole house is coiled tight with pre match-day tension.

Dinner was… weirdly quiet. Jax didn’t speak, which was normal; Rory’s food went cold as he stared at strategy notes the whole time; Theo carved his chicken breast with a deeply furrowed brow; and Finn asked if everyone was hydrated, then apologized for hovering and offered electrolytes.

I’d kept my head down and eaten in silence before clearing the table, trying not to let the fact that I was currently wearing one of Theo’s hoodies and Rory’s scent-stained blanket-slippers short-circuit my nervous system.

Now, the plates are clean, the lights are dim, and Theo has snapped out of whatever trance he was in before and has declared that we need a team bonding activity.

Which is how I find myself cross-legged on the living room floor with four absurdly hot alphas and a bowl of snacks, trying not to read into the fact that every single one of them keeps sitting just slightly too close.

Theo grins as he produces a deck of cards from absolutely nowhere.

“Alright. Truth or dare: team version. You pick a player, then pick truth or dare. No skips, no flaking, and no pretending this is a drill session.”

Finn leans toward me. “You don’t have to play if it’s too much.”

“I’m fine,” I say. Which is a lie, but I’m very determined to be brave about it.

I draw the first card.

Nothing happens. It’s just a two of hearts.

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