Page 21 of Scrum Heat

Four heads turn to me at once. Four large, very tall, very broad, verymuscledheads.

I pause, blink, and recalculate the angle of my authority.

Because they’re allhuge. Like, cover-model-meets-construction-site-meets-“do you even lift, bro” energy. If I stacked them on top of each other, they’d form a protein-scented skyscraper—and yet here I am, five-foot-nothing, running a full-blown rugby pack thirst-trap campaign with nothing but a phone and unearned confidence.

But still—Iamin charge. It’s in the job description. I think.

“Now, let’s get ready, make some sponsor-safe magic, and come home” I finish, pointing dramatically toward the kitchen door.

“What the lady wants, the lady gets,” Theo laughs. “Besides, my thighs werebornfor content.”

“Mine were born for contact sports,” Rory grumbles.

I bury my face in my hands. “Go. Get changed. I’ll meet you all out front in ten minutes.”

Jax grabs a water bottle, nods once, and disappears into the yard. Finn actuallysalutes, then bounds out of the room and upstairs with all the subtlety of a baby elephant on a trampoline.

Which leaves me in the kitchen with Rory and Theo.

A horror movie, frankly.

Rory looks at me, and his gaze drops, all slow and unblinking.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” he asks, voice low and serious.

I freeze. “What?”

“You’re flushed,” he comments, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“Maybe it’s the banana bread,” I sigh. “Or the weird eggs Jax was holding. Or, you know, all of your pheromones literally seeping into the walls of the house. Could be mold—alpha mold.”

Theo leans back against the counter, his abs flexing and his biceps doing things to my ovaries that should require a license.

“Or,” he chirps up, “maybe it’s because we’re a scent match.”

I choke on absolutely nothing. “I’m sorry,what?”

“Comeon,Frankie. You’ve heard this story before. An omega starts spiking around a certain scent profile. Instinctual compatibility and early pack bonds. You know—feral biology.”

“That is not a real thing.”

“It’sliterallya real thing.”

“My body isn’t doinganything,” I snap. “And if it was, it wouldn’t be matchmaking, it would bemalfunctioning.”

Rory steps forward, his alpha energy at full volume.

“Frankie.” His voice is quieter now, but it lands with the weight of a verdict. “If itisa scent-match, then you need to say something. I’m not risking you spiraling on your first day of work.”

“No, I—Rory, I’mfine,” I hiss. “I mean it, it’s just the banana bread. And first day nerves. And the fact that you all smell like an orgy made eye contact with a lumberjack convention.”

“Aha!” Theo grins wider. “So you admit it: youhavenoticed our scent.”

I slap a hand over my forehead. “I’m going to set myself on fire.”

“You might already be combusting,” he says cheerfully. “Should we get a thermometer, or just sniff you again and guess?”

“I’m going to go get changed,” I sigh. “And when I come back, you two better be in shorts, shirts, andnottrying to CSI my hormones.”

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