Page 130 of Altius
We all nodded in agreement.
Perched on the edge of the arm of the couch, I hesitated to ask when Chaz had made this decision, and whether Dr. Sethi had known before our check-in. I hoped she hadn’t.
Because if she had…
Cal squeezed my hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Jacobi let out an undignified snort as he speared gnocchi with his fork. “Run-ins with wicked stepmothers aren’t nothing.”
What?” Cal sat up straight, lacing our fingers together before I could try to retreat. “Anya got on your case again?”
After shooting a glare at my loudmouth best friend, I sighed and looked between Cal and Owen.
“Have either of you eaten?” I asked.
They both shook their heads.
“Come sit down,” Kelsey said, already fetching more bowls from the kitchen. “There’s still plenty of gnocchi left.”
“Yes, better fortify your stomachs,” Jacobi said, sneaking a premature third helping while Kelsey wasn’t looking. “Because it’s a doozy of an update.”
“Morgan?” Cal’s brows knit together.
I leaned down to kiss away the tension in his forehead. “Don’t worry. You know me. I give as good as I get.”
A quiet laugh, delivered at close range, sent a shiver down my spine.
“Of course you did.” Owen’s leg brushed my knee as he slipped past, heading toward his customary seat at the head of the table in the dining room. “Because Dr. Van Daal doesn’t like to lose.”
“Oh, you noticed that, too?” Jacobi teased, cheeks bulging like a hamster.
Owen’s gray eyes settled on my profile. “It’s one of her more charming traits.”
“Can we not encourage her stubbornness, please?” Kelsey set a bowl of gnocchi in front of Owen. “You don’t have to live with her.”
“Neither do you,” Jacobi said with a wave of his fork.
Cal and I exchanged a lingering glance.
Was I ready to exchange evenings like this—with the reliable, cozy comfort of Kelsey’s home-cooked meals and her gentle presence, temporarily punctuated by Jacobi’s sass—for the sake of my love life?
“One thing at a time,” Cal whispered as he got to his feet. “Now, tell me how much I have to apologize for on Anya’s behalf.”
***
A glittery orange blur streaked down the runway, launching off the vault with immense power into a tight twist.
Unfortunately, the gymnast’s legs separated in the air, and she took a step on the landing. Even minor mistakes couldn’t escape the seasoned eye of a gymnastics judge.
It was the first home gymnastics meet of the season, and while I was in awe of the height the alpha girls were getting ontheir vaults, the visiting team couldn’t compete with Northport’s stronger technical proficiency.
My gaze drifted across the arena to the uneven bars, where Wyatt was acting as a spotter, paying close attention to every swing and release, ready to step in at any second to assist one of his athletes.
While the female coaches looked sharp in blazers and blouses in their respective schools’ colors, Wyatt was wearing black joggers with a navy quarter-zip pullover with a prominent Captain Tusker logo on his chest. While the outfit was comparatively casual, it was downright fancy as far as his wardrobe was concerned.
And it did nothing to hide his sculpted physique or deter appreciative glances from members of the visiting team and the assembled crowd.
